Three's A Crowd
by IvyJaneLily
Summary: Set after S03 Christmas Special. Jimmy, Thomas and Tom are trying to move on with their lives, and this is a story of romance, hurt, friendship and fun. WARNING: contains M/M Slash, so if you don't like, don't read! This is my very first fanfic of any type, so reviews are welcome. I hope you like it! (For the purposes of this story, Jimmy and Thomas share a room)
1. Chapter 1

_**Thomas**_

Thomas sat up slowly in his bed, rubbing his eyes. His body still ached from the beating he had been unkindly given at the fair. Wondering what time it was, he looked over at Jimmy's sleeping frame in the bed next to his and sighed.

_What do I do now?_ He thought, listening to Jimmy's regular breathing and occasional snore.

_He has agreed to be friends, isn't that all I could wish for? _

_No_, said a little voice inside of him._ No, I wanted more. But he can't give me more, can he? _

_Can't? Or won't?_ Thomas argued with himself, still feeling confused by the young footman.

_Well, it doesn't really matter if it's can't or won't, either way, he's not going to reciprocate my feelings so I'd better get over it, and fast_, he decided, with a flourish of the bed covers.

Although it was still dark, he decided that it was no use trying to get back to sleep so dressed quietly, picked up his trusty cigarettes and headed for the back yard. Once outside, he spotted O'Brien smoking and gave her a nod. O'Brien, still feeling bitter about the way Thomas had not agreed to help Alfred become first footman, simply sneered and looked away.

_Oh well_, thought Thomas. _One day at a time..._

_**Jimmy**_

Jimmy opened his eyes and turned over to see whether Thomas was still in bed, heaving a small sigh of relief when he spotted that Thomas' bed was neatly made up and his clothes were gone. Despite making up with Thomas yesterday, the guilt of letting Thomas take a beating for him and the discomfort of being alone with Thomas when he knew how Thomas felt about him still made Jimmy feel uneasy. He wondered if things would ever go back to normal.

_But what is normal?_ He thought to himself. Things had never really been normal since he started at Downton. Thomas had always made a beeline for him, but Jimmy just thought he was being friendly and helpful. If he'd known about Thomas' feelings, he would have kept his distance.

_Would I, though?_ A small part of him wondered. He couldn't deny, it was flattering. And Thomas was attractive...

_Stop it! Just stop it! _Jimmy shouted in his head. _I'm not like him! In fact, I'll prove it. I'll get with that Ivy, she likes me! Maybe then things will be 'normal'!_

And with that thought in his head, he got up and dressed and down to the kitchen, awaiting Ivy's arrival for the morning kitchen preparation.

_**Tom**_

Watching young Sybil play with her doll, Tom smiled. She was his angel. Sybil would have been so proud of the way he was looking after her, he knew it. The thought brought a tear to his eye. Although it had been a year since Sybil's passing, he still missed her every day. She was the only woman who had ever understood him, who had been so tolerant of his socialist views, and of his, well, of some of his past.

_I wonder if I will ever meet another lover like Sybil? _He ponders, picking up young Sybil's doll as she drops it on the floor.

_Unlikely, _he thinks, remembering how unique she had been, how different to anyone he had ever met before. A free spirit, with all the love in the world to give.

_She was quite a looker too, _he smiles to himself, _and not so bad at all the marital duties either! _Blushing, he looks up to see young Sybil smiling at him and feels a little guilty for having such thoughts in her presence.

_Sorry, my angel_, he says, though he's not sure whether he is saying it to young Sybil or his dear wife.

_Maybe it is time to move on, to look for happiness, or at least to have a little fun. I know it's what Sybil would have wanted for me. In fact, she'd be terribly cross that I have abstained for as long as I have, _Tom muses, and thinking about the events of the past few days, he deliberated over what, or whom, he should be seeking to fulfil some of his wants and needs.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette. _Ah, that's better,_ he thought. After a long day of running round after his lordship, he finally had 5 minutes to himself. _They won't find me here,_ he smirked, congratulating himself on finding a little corner in the yard that not many knew about, as it was partially blocked by an old piece of corrugated tin. He began to daydream, thinking about Jimmy, his curly blonde locks and his toned body. _If only, _he thought, exhaling the smoke from between his barely parted lips.

"Room for one more?"

Thomas startled. He was rudely awoken from his daydream by none other than the handsome features of Tom Branson, or _Mister Branson_ as he was now supposed to call him, Thomas remembered with a bitter grimace. When Tom started at Downton as a chauffeur, Thomas took a liking to his looks straight away – his lilting Irish accent, his muscular body, his soft, brown eyes. It was only when Tom got involved with Lady Sybil that Thomas realised his luck was out; until then he was never quite sure of Tom's preferences.

"Not really," drawled Thomas, "Well, not for _your _type anyway. You might get your clothes dirty."

"I don't care about that," said Tom. A silence fell between them as Tom tried to think of how he was supposed to start his impending conversation. "So...how are you?"

Thomas wasn't in the mood to talk, least of all to someone like Branson. "Dandy," he replied. "Apart from being beaten up at the fair, that is."

"Ah, yes, I heard about that. I'm sorry. Do you know who it was?"

"Just some scumbags, no-one important." Thomas declined to mention that he had been sacrificing himself for Jimmy. He didn't know of anyone who would understand his reasons. It was difficult enough for Jimmy to understand, let alone anyone else. "Anyway, I'm sure you haven't just come here to talk about recent events in my life. Who are you looking for? "

"I was actually hoping to find _you_, Thomas. I've, er, something of a delicate situation to talk about."

"Hmm," said Thomas, hardly caring, "And what would that be, may I ask?"

"Well, it's kind of difficult to talk about, but I was hoping you might understand. I know you and Sybil were friends, and I hope you don't think I am beseeching her memory by talking to you about this, as she will always be in my heart."

"Spit it out, Branson, some of us don't have all day to chatter," said Thomas, mildly irritated but curious all the same. He couldn't for the life of him think why Branson would want to talk to him about Sybil, or matters of the heart.

"Well, since Sybil died, I have been kind of lonely. The Crawleys have been wonderful, and have tried their best to make me feel welcome. But sometimes one has other needs, needs that family cannot fulfil..." he trailed off, and red as a tomato, glanced up at Thomas to see if he had understood.

"I really don't think I'm the right person to talk to about this," Thomas mumbled, "I don't know how I, of all the servants, can help you out with, er, your _needs_."

"Let me put this another way," started Tom, "Whilst I was living in Ireland, I was something of a rebel...I had a girlfriend or two, but I also grew close to another man. Our relationship started out as good friendship, but then..."

Thomas stared at Tom in disbelief. _Could he be about to confess to what I think he is?_

"I, er, engaged in a physical relationship with this man, and of course we had to keep it quiet. If you think the English are intolerant, the Irish are a hundred times worse."

Thomas looked at Tom incredulously, feeling angry. _Tom Branson, like me? I knew it! I should have trusted my gut feeling when he first arrived. But... the Crawleys let him marry their Sybil! And bear a child with her! _

Tom, sensing Thomas' building rage, explained "Thomas! I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's true. I didn't lie to Sybil, I told her all about James, the man I speak of. She was confused at first, but I told her that it was the person I loved, and it didn't matter whether it was a lady or a gentleman. She wouldn't talk to me at first, but then she came to me one night and told me she understood. I cried in her arms. I had never loved someone so much since James, and the very notion that she didn't mind my confession was proof that she was the one for me. I proposed that night, and she said yes. We never mentioned it again, but we never needed to. Our marriage vows bound us together and I was blissfully happy. I didn't think about James again until I heard you were going to be sacked for improper behaviour towards young Jimmy. I thought it truly unfair."

"But you didn't tell Lord Grantham or Carson to spare me did you? You are just like me but because you are on the rich side of the family now you can hide it and spare the punishment," Thomas spat. "What are you going to do now that Sybil is gone? Find another man and bring up young Sybil with him?! How do you think the Crawleys will react to that?"

"No! I don't want that, as I said, I loved Sybil and I don't only have feelings for men. I have feelings for both men and women. I don't understand it, Thomas. I thought you might, which is why I came to find you. I realise now this was a mistake." And with that, Tom turned around to leave, but Thomas caught his arm.

"Come on now, don't be hasty. I don't know what to say to you, but I might be the one person around these parts who isn't disgusted by what you have just told me." Thomas was caught off guard, and although he despised Tom's move to the better part of Downton, and was confused by what Tom had just confessed, he couldn't deny that it might be an advantage to have another man who was like him so close by. He had had to keep his own lustful thoughts squashed into a corner of his soul, terrified of releasing them in case it made him weak. He could never be seen to be weak. "So what exactly do you want from me? Or is it just someone to tell all your dirty secrets to?"

"Well, I was hoping you might know some places I could go, to find, erm, other like-minded individuals. In Ireland there was one pub that all the 'free spirits' could go to, to share friendship and fun without the fear of prison. I never went there, but James did, although he stopped after he met me," said Tom, looking into the distance.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but all the whores round here are women, and I should know, I've had a few years to look," said Thomas, slightly disappointed that Tom was looking for other men, and not propositioning him directly. "The only evil creature round here is me. So unless you fancy some of this..?" joked Thomas, pointing to his body, expecting Tom to feel embarrassed at the impending rejection he was about to give.

"Well...actually..." said Tom, quietly, "If you say there aren't any places to go, and it has been a while..."

"Forget it, I was joking, as if I'd let you anywhere near me!" laughed Thomas, bitterly. "I don't think servicing your _lordship_ is part of my duties as a valet. Now, if you don't mind, us servants have work to do."

And without a backward glance, Thomas stormed off, leaving Tom to feel a little sheepish. "Well that could have gone better," said Tom to himself. "I must brush up on my social conversation skills."


	3. Chapter 3

As Ivy walked into the kitchen, giggling to Daisy about something or other, Jimmy looked up and smiled. "Here's my favourite girl," he said, gesturing towards Ivy. "You're looking lovely today – have you done your hair differently?"

"No, I haven't, Jimmy, but thank you anyway," she smiled, her cheeks glowing pink. Daisy gave Jimmy a sullen look, which he was totally oblivious to, and walked off, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.

"Ivy," Jimmy starts, "Would you like to come to the village with me later today? It's my half day off and I noticed it's yours too, so how about it?"

"Well, I suppose I could, if it's not too much trouble!" Ivy said, as Thomas and Alfred walked in and sat down at the table.

Glancing up at Thomas, Jimmy thought he'd make a point of his reply, "of course not, why would it be trouble? I have been meaning to take my favourite girl out for a while now, and it's not often we get the same half day off, so we best make the most of it while we can," and with that, he looked at Alfred and gave him an exaggerated wink, much to Alfred's amusement and Thomas' irritation.

Ivy, completely oblivious to Jimmy's bravado, said "Great, well I will meet you in town at 3 o'clock. I have an errand to run first."

"I'll see you at 3," Jimmy said as she walked out of the door. Turning to face Alfred and Thomas, he boasted "Don't wait up for me lads, it might be a late one, if you know what I mean. I don't intend to come back to bed until I've made a dishonest woman out of Ivy."

"Oh, sod off," said Alfred, "As if Ivy is going to let you underneath her clothes. She's got morals, has Ivy."

"Well we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" said Jimmy, looking at Thomas out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. To his slight dismay, Thomas hasn't looked up from the paper he is reading intently and gives a subtle yawn.

_Well I don't care what Thomas thinks anyway, _thought Jimmy. _Just because he is destined to be alone forever, doesn't mean I have to be._

Jimmy walked into town at 2:30pm, feeling a little anxious and wondering whether he should go into the pub for a small drink to settle his nerves. He looked up at the pub and pushed the door, wishing he didn't feel quite so conspicuous.

"Jimmy lad! Come and sit with us!" Jimmy looked over to see George and Harry, two of his father's friends, sitting at the bar. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Good day to you gentlemen!" he said, trying to hide his nerves with his usual grin.

"So what brings you here, eh Jimmy? I heard you were working at that posh house over the way – don't tell me you've lost your job already son?" said the man named Harry, a large portly man with a red face.

"No, they know a good footman when they see one!" laughed Jimmy, "It's my half day off and I thought I'd take one of the kitchen maids out to the village, hold her hand, make her feel special, that kind of thing."

"Oh I see," said George, a tall thin man with little hair and a long nose, "hoping to get a feel of a young lass, are you? Heh heh, I don't blame you," he chortled, "If I were 20 years younger, I'd be working my way through the maids like old Lord Grantham gets through dinner jackets. What's the lucky girl's name then?"

"It's Ivy, and I don't think she'll be one to let me take advantage, if you know what I mean. I'll be lucky to get a kiss!" said Jimmy, taking a swig of the ale Harry had placed in front of him.

"Well, that's not right, is it Harry?" exclaimed George. "Young Jimmy here should have his pick of the girls, a handsome boy like him! I'll tell you what, why don't I give you some tips?"

"George, leave the poor boy alone!" exclaims Harry, turning to face Jimmy. "Now see here boy, there will be lots of fun to have with young Ivy, but there's no need to rush. You don't want to scare the poor girl off, do you?"

"And I think you should get all you can, it's not like you have plans to make an honest woman of her, or is it?" asked George.

"No, of course not! It's just a bit of fun," replied Jimmy, feeling a little red-faced, but whether it was from the conversation or the drink, he wasn't sure.

"Well, let me tell you," said George, "I'd make the most of it if I were you. Nowadays my wife doesn't like to engage in such, frivolity, she calls it, and I long for the days of bouncing her up and down on my manly sword, if you know what I mean. I've almost forgotten what the feel of a woman's special place feels like. And as for the feel of her mouth..."

Jimmy almost spluttered his ale into his lap. He didn't want to admit it, but the thought of a woman doing, well _that_ with her mouth, well, he didn't know whether to be excited or disgusted. If he was going to do anything of an improper nature with Ivy, it wasn't going to be _that._


	4. Chapter 4

The kitchen servants had finished the last of the washing up, and Thomas sat alone in the kitchen, thinking. _Damn Jimmy, damn him and his bravado!_ He thought, wishing he didn't feel so jealous of Jimmy's date with Ivy. The wink that Jimmy had given Alfred was etched in his minds' eye so clearly it hurt.

_Would he be true to his word, and take away Ivy's innocence? _It didn't bear thinking about. He knew Jimmy was just boasting to somehow 'prove' that he wasn't like himself. He knew that Jimmy, although fond of Ivy, wasn't intent on making her his sweetheart and was just trying to get one over on Alfred, and make himself feel like a big, bold man.

Feeling in his pocket for his cigarettes, he got up and made his way to the back door and stood outside, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag deep down into his lungs. _I don't care, _he tried to tell himself, _Jimmy can have Lady Mary if that's what he bloody wants. He has made it clear he doesn't want me._ Beginning to feel sorry for himself, he rested his head back on the wall and closed his eyes. It had been a while since he had felt another man's touch, and he missed it. He had had to be careful, after the incident with Jimmy, as he knew that one foot out of place would have been his ticket out of Downton forever. Opening his eyes, his eyesight adjusting to the dark, he realised he was staring at the place where Tom Branson had poured out his heart to him the day before.

_Maybe I was a bit hasty, _thought Thomas. _If I keep Branson on my side, so to speak, it means he will never be able to tell a soul about me in fear that I will tell Lord Grantham his sordid little secret. Maybe I can use this to my advantage, after all. He's no Jimmy, but he's the only one I can go to at the moment. _

Feeling unusually nervous, Thomas threw down his used cigarette and retreated back into the house. He looked around for signs of life, but it seemed everyone had gone to bed. There had been no sign of Jimmy, so he must have gotten beneath Ivy's dress after all, he thought bitterly. _All the more reason for doing this, _he thought, with a bittersweet taste in his mouth, as he approached the stairs. He knew that what he was doing wasn't right, for a great number of reasons, but since when did he, Thomas Barrow, care about doing the right thing?

Knocking quietly on the door, he didn't wait for an answer before slowly turning the handle and pushing gently. Tom Branson was sitting on his bed, reading Sybil a bedtime story, and startled when he saw Thomas standing in the doorway.

"Sorry to disturb you, Branson, but I was thinking about what you told me the other day, and I think I may have brushed you off too easily. Is there any chance we can talk about this a little more?" Thomas laughed inwardly at the formality of his request, but somehow, it made the situation more interesting to approach. One of the only advantages of being the way he was, was that he had to be careful of his choice of words, in case he had got the wrong impression of a duke, or a farmer, or a soldier, and was in danger of being misread.

"Of course, Mister Barrow...I must finish reading Sybil's bedtime story first though, I hope you understand," said Tom, with a mixture of confusion, relief and embarrassment on his face. "Stay here, if you like, I won't make you wait outside."

"Thank you, Branson," replied Thomas, sitting down on a chair by the door. He sat and listened as Tom finished off the story to an already sleeping Sybil, allowing himself the few minutes to clear his head of thoughts.

Thomas looked up as Tom put down the book and stood up from the bed. "Where shall we...?" he whispered, guessing that right there in the room with Sybil would be inappropriate.

"Not here, obviously!" said Thomas, putting Tom's mind at ease immediately. Remembering that the kitchen was empty, he said "let's go down to the kitchen and talk."

Tom followed Thomas silently out of the room and closed the door. The two figures crept as quietly as they could down to the kitchen, checking that no-one saw them on their way. Once there, Thomas sat down and gestured for Tom to do the same.

"So what is it you actually want from me?" asked Thomas, eyeing Tom's outline in the moonlit kitchen.

"Companionship, in a physical way, if that makes any sense," answered Tom. "I'm not looking for love...Sybil needs all of my love at the moment, until I can find her a mother. The only women I am likely to meet around here are going to be relatives of my dear Sybil, and that, to me, would be wrong. I am a bereaved man, but I am still a man, and I'm sure you know that we all have needs."

"So you just want me for sex?"

Tom winced a little at Thomas' crudeness. "Although I wouldn't put it so bluntly, yes. With your permission, of course."

"Well of course. You're not likely be getting anything from me without my permission! And you needn't worry about me falling in love with you. I don't do love." _Not any more, _thought Thomas.

"Well that suits me too. I don't think it wise for me to fall in love with a man, now I have Sybil to think about," Tom replied. "I'm curious...why the sudden change of heart?"

"Let's just say it has been a while for me too, and leave it at that. Well, there's no time like the present. We can use my room. Jimmy is out with Ivy, and has made it quite clear that he won't be back until the early hours."

Tom, sensing that Thomas didn't want to elaborate about Jimmy any further, followed Thomas silently out of his room and closed the door. The two figures sneaked silently towards the room Thomas shared with Jimmy. Thomas opened the door in darkness, and ushered Tom inside, gesturing towards the bed on the right. Both men were glad of the lack of light, as the situation was a little awkward, at best.

"Come here," said Thomas, taking the lead and getting into the bed, "and show me what you used to do with James."

Tom removed his outer clothes and got into the small bed where Thomas was only in his pants.

_What am I doing? _Tom thought, touching Thomas' toned body tentatively with his hands.

_Shut up and enjoy yourself! _He replied to himself, feeling his way to where Thomas' head lay on the pillow. He let his lips fall onto Thomas', gently at first. It had been a while, and he had been used to kissing Sybil, so he didn't want to use too much force. Thomas had other ideas, however. He grabbed the back of Tom's head and pushed it into his own, prising open Tom's lips with his tongue and breathing him in hungrily.

_Ah, I have missed this, _thought Thomas, greedily, _I deserve this. I need it. _He released his grip on the back of Tom's head slightly to allow Tom to take off his underclothes. Feeling Tom's naked body on top of his own, he slid off his own underwear and the two of them lay skin to skin, mouths and tongues entwined. He could feel Tom's growing erection against his thigh, and slid his hand down to touch him. Tom gasped as he felt Thomas' grip on his cock.

_That feels really good, _he thought, as Thomas began to rub his firm hand up and down Tom's shaft. _I'd forgotten what a man's touch feels like...ah! _He exclaimed, although trying to be quiet. The last thing he needed was Carson storming in to catch the two of them. He reached his hand down to Thomas' own erection, which was leaking from the tip. He rubbed his thumb around the leaking juices, making Thomas gasp with delight.

Thomas could barely take much more. Putting his hand back behind Tom's head, he firmly, but not forcibly, pushed Tom's head down towards his chest, subtly hinting where he would like this moment to lead. Tom kissed Thomas' chest, grazing his tongue across Thomas' nipples and bellybutton, until he reached the top of his pubic hair. He couldn't see Thomas' hard, dripping cock, but he sensed the lust in Thomas' very being, willing him to take him into his mouth and give him what he was longing for.

_Jesus Christ! _Thought Thomas, as Tom's soft lips closed around the tip of his throbbing cock, _I'm not going to last very long at this rate! _He tried to hold off for as long as he could but Tom kept a steady rhythm of moving his mouth up and down Thomas' fully aroused cock, flicking the tip with his tongue, and it wasn't long before he could feel himself about to explode. He felt Tom's hand cup his testicles and with a judder, he ejaculated into Tom's mouth, again, and again, until he had emptied all of his hot, salty liquid down the back of Tom's throat.

_Boy, he tasted good, _thought Tom, swallowing every drop and licking the end of Thomas' cock where the last few drips were leaking onto his chin. _I wouldn't mind doing that again, but it's my turn now, I think!_ Working his way back up towards Thomas' face, Tom kisses his chest and when his head is level with Thomas', he slides his tongue into Thomas' mouth to give him a taste of his own juices.

Kissing passionately, Tom starts to masturbate and doesn't wait for Thomas to take charge. Pulling away from Thomas, he grabs his shoulder and flips him over so that he is laying face down on the bed. Licking his fingers, he slides his hand down to Thomas' tight buttocks and finds his entrance. Thomas gasps, feeling excited and extremely aroused in anticipation of Tom's next act. Tom slides his wet fingers in between Thomas' cheeks and pushes deep inside. Thomas arches his back in a mixture of pain and pleasure, as Tom feels for the spot that he knows will leave Thomas wanting. Deciding that he's had enough of teasing, Tom lowers his cock between Thomas' buttocks and pushes his way in, giving into the sweet pleasure and the tight warmth enveloping his throbbing cock. Just as his sucking rhythm was well received, his hips didn't fail him as he thrust deep inside Thomas, making the valet moan and shudder, this time with pleasure. Tom knew that he wasn't going to last more than a few minutes and slowed down, enjoying every second of the sex between him and Thomas. It was better than he remembered. It was heaven.

Gripping Thomas' shoulders tightly, Tom gave one last push before feeling the familiar sensation of ejaculation engulf his senses. He thrust again and felt himself squeezing all of his liquid into Thomas' behind, doing all he could to stop himself exclaiming loudly. Gently, he pulled out of Thomas and before he could do or say anything, Thomas flipped onto his back, leant forward and sucked the last remaining drops from Tom's, now semi erect, cock.

"Don't want to make a mess of the sheets, do we?" whispered Thomas, with a grin that only himself could sense. "How do you think I'd explain that to Mrs Hughes?"

"I'm sure she's seen worse sights than dirty bed linen," said Tom, "But I understand where you're coming from. Now, do you mind if I get straight back? I don't want Sybil to wake up and no-one being able to find me."

"Of course. And thank you, Mister Branson, it was very enjoyable."

"You're welcome, Mister Barrow. Let me know when Jimmy is next with Ivy and I'll visit again."

Thomas heard the door shut, and rolled over in his bed. _Worth every second, _he grinned, falling asleep feeling happier than he had felt in months.


	5. Chapter 5

Jimmy lay in bed in the darkness, going over the evening's events in his head.

_It had started so well, _he thought, remembering Ivy's smiling face as he met her on the corner. He'd been grateful for the 3 pints of ale that he had consumed earlier in the pub, however, as his nerves had waned almost immediately after the second pint, despite George's tales getting more and more explicit as the minutes passed by. Jimmy swore that most of the physical acts that the old boys had been talking about were imaginary. He couldn't imagine any woman partaking in them at all, least of all Ivy. He didn't let on that he was inexperienced, but he was sure that the men had guessed. The furthest he had gone with a woman was a kiss at the local fayre, but he didn't want anyone to know that! Anyway, by the end of this evening, he should have a notch to add to his bedpost, and Thomas could take a running jump. Though why Thomas preyed so heavily on his mind, he didn't know. He didn't want to know.

"Hello Jimmy!" said Ivy, walking over to him and disturbing his thoughts. "What shall we do this afternoon?"

"Ivy! I don't mind, shall we take a stroll in the park?"

"What a lovely idea," exclaimed Ivy, who continued to chatter all the way to the park. Jimmy glanced towards the pub where he had been drinking not half an hour beforehand, and took hold of Ivy's hand. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, congratulating himself on what he saw as a bold move.

"No, of course not," blushed Ivy, smiling. "I've never held hands before."

_You'll be doing a lot more than that soon, _thought Jimmy. _The question is – how can I persuade Ivy to let me?_ Feeling inside his coat for the hip flask George had given him, he decided to offer it to Ivy. After all, the ale had given him confidence; it might so the same for her.

"Whiskey?" he offered. "For the cold, I mean." _What else? _He thought, ignoring the fact that it was summer, and not cold at all.

"Oh, go on then, I shouldn't, but seeing as it's my afternoon off," resigned Ivy, with a sigh.

_This is going to be easier than I thought! _Mused Jimmy, watching Ivy put the flask to her lips and swallow, wincing at the strength of the liquid.

"Blimey, this is strong!" she exclaimed, but it didn't stop her from taking another swig.

_There's a good girl, _thought Jimmy in delight. He took the flask back and put it into his coat pocket. Now half way around the park, and with darkness creeping in, Jimmy looked for a quiet corner for them to settle in. Leading Ivy towards a clearing he took off his coat and laid it down on the grass, behind some trees. Gesturing for her to sit down, he sat down himself and put his arm around her.

"What shall we do now?" said Ivy, innocently.

"Will you let me kiss you?" asked Jimmy, "I've wanted to since the day I first laid eyes on you." _Smooth._

"Well, all right then, but no funny business. My mother warned me about lads like you Jimmy!" she answered, but turned to face him and closed her eyes. Jimmy leant in towards her, the sweet scent of flowers and whiskey washing over him as he pressed his lips towards hers.

_Here's my chance! Right, what was the first thing I had to do? _Panicking mildly, Jimmy pressed his body against Ivy's so that he could persuade her to lie down. Whether it was the whiskey, or his kissing abilities, he didn't know, but Ivy fell back gracefully onto the coat he had laid down on arrival.

_That was easy!_ He thought, subtly moving his hand up to her chest, remembering that George had talked about the joys of touching a woman's breasts. Surprisingly, as he lay his hand down, Ivy didn't push him away, but more surprisingly, he wasn't sure what the big deal was. Maybe he needed to get inside her dress, yes, that was it!

Jimmy slid his hand beneath Ivy's dress, expecting Ivy to protest, but to his surprise she just murmured and kept her eyes shut. _Bloody hell, what was in that whiskey? _He wondered, glad he didn't have any. He moved his hand up to her breasts and gave them a squeeze. Still not sure what he was supposed to be doing, he decided to move onto the next act. He moved his hand down and slipped it into Ivy's knickers, guessing where he should be touching based on things he'd heard other lads boasting about. Ivy slurred incoherently, but didn't move Jimmy's hand so he carried on massaging between Ivy's legs where it was smooth and wet. Ivy gasped – Jimmy immediately withdrew his hand, thinking he'd hurt her, but from glancing at her face he could see that she'd gasped in delight, not pain.

_Now's my chance! _He thought, deciding that it was now or never. _All I have to do is slip it in, and I will no longer be a virgin. I'll be a man!_

Undoing his trousers with his right hand, he removed his cock and slid Ivy's knickers down. Ivy, whilst still conscious, had seemingly given in to the situation and was looking at Jimmy like she loved him. _I bet she thinks I'll marry her after this, _he thought. _Not bloody likely._

Something wasn't quite right. Jimmy looked down at his cock, and noticed that it was floppy. He knew that it needed to be hard – he had played with it enough times to know what it should be doing right now! He began to masturbate, like he did when he was alone or sometimes when he thought Thomas was asleep. _This should do the trick! _But still it was as soft as it could be. There was no way he was going to be able to get it inside Ivy like that. Crestfallen, he put his cock back into his trousers and did them up. Ivy, stirring a little more now as the whiskey was wearing off, looked up at Jimmy, asking "What are you doing? I told you, none of that funny business!"

"Don't worry, my sweetheart, I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of you like that!" Jimmy thought that if he couldn't perform as a man, he might as well pretend to be a gentleman, to save his dismay at not being aroused by Ivy's inviting wetness. "We just kissed and cuddled, don't you remember?"

Ivy, suffering a little from temporary amnesia, said "Yes, of course I remember. Nothing else, unless you intend on making an honest woman of me Jimmy?" There was hope in her face and eyes, and Jimmy didn't have the heart to reject her.

"We'll see, my sweetheart. Don't worry, you won't have to wait long!" He hoped his tone wasn't too dishonest – he was sure she would be snapped up by another lad, if not him.

Smiling, Ivy kissed Jimmy on the cheek and got to her feet, swaying a little from the drink. "Come on then, you daft sod, let's get back before Mrs Hughes sends out a search party for me."

Jimmy got up and followed her, his disappointment with himself turning to anger at how badly the night had gone, for him anyway. Blissfully unaware, Ivy hummed to herself as they made their way out of the park, through the village and up towards the house.

With a goodbye kiss on the cheek, Jimmy and Ivy parted ways. Jimmy wasted no time in getting back to his room, not in the mood for questions from Alfred. He hadn't decided exactly what he was going to say to anyone about what had, or hadn't happened. He pushed open the door to the room he shared with Thomas, and saw that Thomas' bed was empty. _That's odd. _He thought. _I thought Thomas would be in bed by now, but I suppose I am back a lot earlier than I was expecting to be._

Jimmy undressed, pulled his pyjamas on and got into bed, going over the events in his head.

_What the hell was that? _He thought, angrily. _I had the opportunity right there in front of me. I couldn't even get hard! What is wrong with me? And now Ivy wants me to marry her. What a wasted evening! _Jimmy was beside himself with anger. Breathing heavily, he clenched his fists and his eyes filled with tears. _So now I'm crying? What kind of a man am I? _Full of self-loathing, Jimmy turned over to face the wall and blinked away his tears.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. _Thomas, _thought Jimmy, waiting for the door to close and Thomas to begin his night time routine. Jimmy's heart stopped as he realised Thomas was not alone – he had brought someone else into the room with him!

_What the devil is going on? _Thought Jimmy, not daring to move or make a sound. _What is Thomas playing at, bringing someone into our room at night! _It suddenly dawned on Jimmy that Thomas was fully expecting the room to be empty, as he had made a big song and dance about staying out late with Ivy. _That's no excuse! _He thought, testily. Sensing that the other person was another man, Jimmy bristled. _That's disgusting! Please don't let them do anything with me here, it's wrong, I don't want to hear it! _Jimmy found himself unable to move, and as the seconds felt like minutes, he knew that the longer he waited to say something, the more difficult it would be. He heard Thomas speak:

"Come here, and show me what you used to do with James."

_Who's James? _Thought Jimmy, his curiosity temporarily overriding his sense of disgust. Just then he heard Thomas and his companion throw their garments on the floor and kissing noises could be heard. Jimmy was unsure why, but he fought back the urge to exclaim. He couldn't see the men, of course, but could imagine then in bed together, kissing and touching. He didn't know what two men got up to and he didn't want to know either. He could hear Thomas moaning gently, and through the darkness he thought he heard the other man swallow – once, twice, three times.

_NO! Surely not! _Jimmy recoiled at the memory of earlier in the evening when George had regaled him with the image of a woman making love to him, using her mouth, and shock filled Jimmy's entire being at the thought that here he was, lying just a few feet away from another man possibly committing this act upon Thomas. Incredulous to what was going on, Jimmy tried to push his head further into the pillow to stop himself hearing any more. Unfortunately, the men began to moan more loudly, and Jimmy could only imagine what was going on. Images of Thomas filled his head, no matter how he tried to push them away. He thought of Thomas' naked body, writhing in his bed and being touched by another man.

To his utmost horror, Jimmy felt his pyjama bottoms tighten. Stifling a gasp, he slowly reached down to where his cock was trying to escape from the material, hard as a rock.

_NO! NO! Why now?! It's disgusting me, not turning me on! _

Jimmy was mortified. His cock was throbbing, and it was taking all his strength to not give in to it with his own hand. The two men tussled in the neighbouring bed, and the mattress began to creak rhythmically. Jimmy had no idea what they were doing, but listening to their groaning was torture. Before he realised what he was doing, he began to frantically masturbate, feeling aroused and ashamed at the same time. He couldn't help himself; he had never been so turned on in his life. Biting the pillow so as not to make a sound, he ejaculated into his hand; relieved that it was over. He heard the second man moan loudly and guessed that it was over for him, too. He wondered if he'd ever find out who the other man was.

He didn't have to wait for long. The soft hum of Tom Branson's voice filled Jimmy's ears.

_Him?! Mister Branson? And Thomas? Well, he got over me quickly then, didn't he?_ Jimmy didn't know whether to be angry, hurt, ashamed or disgusted. His mind was awash with conflicting emotions as Tom left the room.

As he heard Thomas sigh contentedly, a tear rolled silently down his cheek and onto the pillow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who has read my fanfic so far, and I'm really grateful for your comments :o) I'm still trying to work out where this story is going to go, but there will be more M/M slash to come ;o)**

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Drenched in sweat, Jimmy's eyes shot open. For a split second, he thought he'd been having a nightmare. Images of Thomas and Tom Branson, naked and intertwined with crisp white bed sheets, swam around his imagination, haunting him.

_I didn't dream it. It was real. I don't know what it was – but it was happening right there in that bed._

And then it hit him like a ton of stone. It wasn't just real. It had resulted in his own gratification whilst he had no choice but to listen. Jimmy felt disgusted with himself.

_It's not right! Only a man and a woman should be naked together! Two men – it's just not right! It's a sin, that's what it is. It wasn't them that were making me aroused – it was me thinking about Ivy, with her delicate features and pretty face. She's the one I was imagining._

He put up a good argument with himself, but try as he might, Jimmy could not shake the sinking feeling that something didn't quite sit right. Turning over in his bed, he couldn't contain his relief that Thomas had already got up and dressed, dreading the conversation that he might have had to face. 

Walking down to the kitchen, Jimmy couldn't think straight. He bumped into Mrs Patmore as he entered the kitchen, nearly sending the breakfast she had made crashing to the floor.

"Watch where you're going Jimmy!" she shrieked, which made him jump; he hadn't realised she was there. As he sat down to nibble at a piece of cold toast, his stomach flipped at the sight of Thomas sauntering into the kitchen, cigarette dangling from his lips. And, was he, _smiling_? Jimmy wasn't the only one to notice.

"And what're you looking so cheerful about at this time of the morning?" asked O'Brien, looking as sullen as ever.

"Well wouldn't you like to know!" replied Thomas, his usual air of superiority enhanced with a new level of confidence.

"No, I wouldn't actually. I was just making conversation," said O'Brien, returning to her knitting.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, and was a little surprised to see that the young footman wasn't looking his usual cocky self. He was half expecting a blow-by-blow account of the previous evening's date with Ivy, but maybe he was saving that for when the women weren't around.

_Or maybe he's just tired from being out so late, _thought Thomas. _After all, I didn't hear him come in last night. Probably because I was exhausted from my own nocturnal activities. _Thomas smirked to himself as he remembered the feel of Tom's mouth on him.

"Right, you, Lord Grantham will be wondering who you are and what you've done with Thomas if you keep looking so happy. He'll think he's paying you too much." Carson had walked into the kitchen and also noticed Thomas' unusually beaming disposition. "James – we'll be serving breakfast to Mr Branson and Murray in the small dining room, they are having a business meeting and won't be eating with the others."

"M-Mr Branson?" Jimmy was horrified at the thought of seeing Tom so soon after last night's ordeal. "Are you sure you need me?"

"Well of course I will require you. Do you expect me to sprout extra arms to serve the food all by myself? And hurry up – the food isn't going to get any warmer sitting in here."

Jimmy rose from his chair, paling at the thought of seeing Tom Branson in the light of day. He followed Carson up to the small dining room that the residents sometimes used if there were only two or three of them eating. His hands began to shake as he entered the room, and came face-to-face with Tom, who was sitting at the chair closest to him. He, too, looked rather pleased with himself.

As Tom picked up a glass of orange juice and started to drink, Jimmy heard the unmistakeable sound of him swallowing. Once, twice, three times. Jimmy could hardly take any more. Leaning over to offer Tom the dish he was holding, Jimmy closed his eyes and tried to fight off the image of Tom swallowing something else, as although he hadn't seen it, the picture was so clear he could almost swear he had.

"Thank you Jimmy," said Tom, gratefully helping himself to some eggs. "I'm glad you brought the breakfast – I'm feeling absolutely ravenous this morning!"

The serving plate clattered to the ground as Jimmy stood stock still, startled by the sound of Tom's voice. He had heard it so many times before, but now every word took on a different meaning.

"Jimmy! What on Earth are you playing at boy?" bellowed Carson, rushing to pick up the silverware at once.

"I'm s-sorry, Mr Carson, I'm sorry!" Jimmy turned on his heel and fled from the room, the now familiar prickle of tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't understand what was happening to him – this time yesterday, everything had been going right. He had a date with a girl, him and Thomas were friends, and none of this should be happening.

Not knowing where to go, he found himself down in the cellar, staring at the endless bottles of wine and brandy. In a fit of rage, he picked up a bottle and threw it against the wall, smashing it spectacularly. He watched as the dark red liquid streamed down the wall, mirroring the tears streaming down his cheeks as he couldn't contain his emotions any more. He picked up another bottle, and was about to throw it when he had the urge to drink it. He found a corkscrew and deftly opened the bottle of wine. Tipping his head back, he gulped down the contents until just the empty bottle was left. He'd never enjoyed wine, but right now it was nectar. He smashed the empty bottle against the wall and slumped down to the floor in a crumpled mess.


	7. Chapter 7

"We'll let you know if we see him, Carson." Bates was sitting at the table with Thomas and Alfred when Carson came to look for Jimmy. Carson had been very brief with the details but the Bates knew that something had riled him, and hoped he would get the chance to speak to poor Jimmy before Carson got his hands on him.

"I wonder what that was all about?" asked Thomas, exhaling smoke, as Carson left the room, muttering to himself. "I thought Jimmy would be on top of the world this morning, having spent all of last night with Ivy, if you know what I mean. Maybe it didn't go so well after all?"

"It was great, actually!" Jimmy had appeared at the door, his clothes marked and his face distant. "She were well up for it, couldn't wait to get me out of my trousers!"

"Jimmy..." warned Bates. "I don't think you should be discussing this with us."

"And why not? I'm sure you're all dying to know," he slurred, grabbing hold of the table to steady himself. "She said I was a great kisser, best she's ever had!"

"Jimmy, shut your mouth, it's not right to be talking about Ivy like this!" said Alfred, blushing and looking at his hands.

"Oh, sorry, am I making you jealous?! I know you would have given anything to be where I was last night. We all know you fancy her like mad!" Jimmy raised his voice as the wine began to addle his head. "But I doubt she'd let you do what I did. We...did everything!" Jimmy was desperately trying to think of sexual acts to describe; to prove that he was 'normal' and push all the other offending images from his soul.

"Are you drunk?" asked Thomas, almost admiring Jimmy's boldness, but bemused at his bragging. After all, none of this was going to impress _him_, was it?

Jimmy suddenly remembered the conversation with George and Harry. "She used her mouth on me, she did!" he said triumphantly, thinking that this was something he could guarantee would impress, even if it wasn't true. "It were great – she did it twice!"

"Right! That's enough!" shouted Bates, "We don't want to hear any more of this! Thomas, take Jimmy up to his room before Carson finds him. He needs to sleep it off. I daresay he'll have a throbbing head when he wakes up, but it'll give him time to think about what he's said and done."

Thomas, although loathe to taking orders from Bates, agreed that Jimmy needed to be hidden in his room for a while. He took Jimmy's arm, and marched him to the room they shared. Although he felt amused by Jimmy's outburst, he still cared for the boy deeply and didn't want him to get into trouble. He tried to push the jealousy away at the thought that what Jimmy was saying might turn out to be true.

Reaching their room, he lay Jimmy down onto his bed, fully clothed. Tempting as it was to remove Jimmy's clothes to make him more comfortable, Thomas resisted. The pain of Jimmy's rejection a year ago still hadn't quite healed and he didn't want the situation to be misread.

Jimmy, now passed out, looked like a sleeping angel. Thomas couldn't get over quite how handsome he was, and feeling bold, reached out to brush aside a golden lock of hair that had fallen across Jimmy's forehead.

_My poor, handsome boy, _he allowed himself to think, wishing for another time when Jimmy could be his. _Ivy's a lucky girl, even if she doesn't quite deserve the gossiping behind her back. I won't tell her what Jimmy has said. He won't remember when he wakes up, and I'll make sure Bates doesn't say anything. Alfred wouldn't dare mention it, not if he knows what's good for him._

Leaving him there to rest, Thomas closed the door behind him and went back to his duties.

Disorientated, Jimmy opened his eyes as the world spun around him.

_What the hell happened? _He wondered, for the second time that day. He had no idea what the time was, or why he was still fully dressed. He sat up, immediately regretting the decision as his head felt like it was splitting in two.

It was starting to get dark outside. Had he been drinking? He remembered feeling like this the day after the fayre, when he had drunk a little too much and Thomas had followed him...

He didn't want to think about that right now. They'd sorted things out, and that was that. Just then, Thomas walked in, smiling to see him sitting up.

"How's the head? Sore I'd imagine," chuckled Thomas, undoing his own shirt. "You've been asleep all day. I told Carson you were unwell. He seems to think you had a funny turn in the small dining room at breakfast earlier and was willing to accept illness as an excuse. You know what he's like, he can accept illness but any other problems, he'd rather not have to worry about."

Jimmy was barely registering what Thomas was rambling on about. It had all suddenly come flooding back to him – Thomas and Branson, running out on breakfast, drinking the wine in the cellar, and bragging about his exploits with Ivy. Except there were no exploits. He'd made it up.

_To be honest, that's the least of my problems, _he thought as he slowly rubbed his forehead. He made a move to get up out of his bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Thomas, giving him a stern look. "I've told Carson you're ill, and he won't expect to see you until tomorrow, otherwise I'll look like a liar. Get back into bed!"

"Well, where are you off to? Shouldn't you be dressing Lord Grantham for dinner?"

"He's gone to London, so no, I won't be. I've got other places to go, people to see," replied Thomas, vaguely, pulling on his day clothes. As he left the room, Jimmy had a strange suspicion that he might be going to see Tom. It wasn't often Thomas had time to himself and Jimmy didn't believe he'd waste it.

Without knowing why, Jimmy had a sudden urge to follow Thomas. He stood up, feeling awful.

_I'm never drinking wine again. Horrible stuff. I feel like I have been punched in the head with an iron glove._

Creeping out of the room, checking first to make sure Carson wasn't hanging about, he walked in the direction that he heard Thomas go. Reaching the garage, he spotted a few new cars that he hadn't seen before. Remembering that this was Tom's domain before he ran away with Lady Sybil, he had a feeling his suspicions would turn out to be correct.

Hearing hushed voices, Jimmy ducked down behind one of the cars. In the poor light he could just make out two figures, _Branson and Thomas, _he guessed. They got into one of the cars, and closed the door. Jimmy crept closer to the car, trying to hear what they were saying.

"...poor lad," he heard Tom say, "and you said he was telling all and sundry about his physical goings on with Ivy? I wouldn't want to be in his shoes when she finds out!"

"She's not going to," said Thomas, "I'll make sure of it. If she makes Jimmy happy, then I don't think a few drunken words should stand in their way. He deserves a bit of fun, does Jimmy."

"Don't we all?" sighed Tom, smiling. He looked at Thomas, who suddenly had a serious expression on his face. "You really like him, don't you? It's ok, you don't have to talk about it. But you can, if you want to."

"I'm not very good at talking about my feelings. It has always got me into trouble, in the past. But yes, I am very fond of him. I'd even go so far as to say I love him. But he says we can only be friends, so I have to accept that. I'd do anything for him."

"You don't have to convince me. I've seen the bruises on your body that were meant for him. "

Thomas winced at the memory. Overhearing, Jimmy felt a wash of sympathy for the valet. He couldn't understand why Thomas would be talking to Tom about him – surely they were lovers now? If not, what was all that about last night?

Tom continued, "I'm not Jimmy. I can't take away your pain. But I can make you forget it for a few minutes, just like you make me forget about Sybil. That's if you'll let me." It wasn't a question, it was a request. He put his hand up to stroke Thomas' head, and Thomas kissed Tom's wrist where it brushed against his lips. Thomas was overcome with desire for affection; his hurt for Jimmy was excruciating but Tom was offering a few minutes of passion, which he could not refuse. In one swift move he straddled Tom and started to undo his trousers, whilst Tom undid his own, their mouths meeting in a clashing of lust.

Jimmy heard a rustling sound as the two men in the car repositioned themselves. He was frozen with shock at what he had just heard – Thomas, talking so lovingly about him, yet he knew from the distinct lack of voices that they were about to embark on sexual activity. Confusion didn't come into it. Not wanting to bear witness to another intimate encounter between the two, he crawled along the floor and only got to his feet where he knew they wouldn't see him. He nearly shouted out loud when he saw their naked bodies, locked together as one, in the reflection of another car window. Repulsed, yet fascinated, he couldn't take his eyes off of them. They moved rhythmically up and down, Thomas on top, his head thrown back, eyes closed with pleasure. Jimmy had no idea what they were doing; his limited knowledge around sex was enough to know that two men couldn't be doing what a man and woman could.

Not wanting to stay around to be discovered, he scarpered back up to his room and flung himself into bed fully clothed. The image of the two men engaging in such activity was never going to leave him, he was sure of it. However, there was one thing that terrified him, almost to the point of hysteria. Reaching down to grab his hard cock with his hand – he realised that he actually didn't want the image to disappear at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Thank you all for reviewing and reading - this chapter's a bit longer but I wanted to get some slash in before the end of it ;o) I hope you enjoy it!**

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A week later, Thomas walked into the kitchen and sat down opposite Ivy and Daisy. Lighting a cigarette, he tried to block out their girly chatter and focus instead on when he would be meeting up with Tom later. He was rather enjoying their illicit sessions, more than he thought he would be. Tom was a good lover, and almost insatiable. He wondered how long they would keep the arrangement up – perhaps until one of them found a genuine love interest.

_I'm reckoning on that happening to him first, _he thought. _Unless they suddenly change the law and everyone starts being accepting of 'my kind'. And that's about as likely as O'Brien cracking a smile._

Thomas found himself liking Tom more and more each time, but strangely enough, as a friend, rather than as a romantic interest. He did worry about falling for Tom at first, but for some reason he couldn't see that as an option. For now, he was just appreciating the company, friendship, and the fulfilment of certain needs.

_And of course there's the fact that he's 'one of them' now, _he thought, _if only that lot upstairs could see us, they'd die of a heart attack! _ Somehow the thought made him chuckle. Although he was fond of the Granthams (some more than others), he couldn't help but feel a little smug at the idea that he was having his way with one of them right under their noses. The only time he felt bad about his actions was when he thought about Sybil. _Dear Sybil, it's a tragedy that she had to die so young, she was the kindest of the daughters._ _And she was forward thinking_. _I bet if the Jimmy incident had happened when she was around, she would have understood. _

Thomas was brought out of his trail of thoughts by the mention of Jimmy's name, and wondered whether Daisy and Ivy could hear into his head. But no, they were discussing the date that Ivy and Jimmy had been on, just over a week ago.

"I've been waiting for him to ask me out again, but I think Carson has been keeping him busy. I haven't seen him much at all," said Ivy, almost sorrowfully.

"Well, do you think he will?" asked Daisy, "You do think he enjoyed the date, don't you?"

"I think so," replied Ivy, "He were ever so kind. We held hands and walked to the park, and he took off his coat for me to sit on." She smiled at the memory. "And then we..."

Pretending to be engrossed in today's newspaper, Thomas' ears pricked up – was Ivy about to confess, right here in broad daylight in the middle of the kitchen, to improper behaviour? He stared hard at the page without actually looking at it, willing Ivy to continue.

"..we, oh I shouldn't be telling you this!" (Thomas' heart sank) "We kissed! And it were lovely. He's a really good kisser, is Jimmy." Ivy was blushing, and looking up at Daisy as if she had just confessed to a lot worse. Thomas, meanwhile, was feeling slightly better. He didn't think he could face hearing Ivy's full version of events.

"Aw, that's lovely, I'm so happy for ya!" said Daisy, with only the slightest green tint to her eyes. "Most lads would be trying to, you know, cop a feel. I was worried that Jimmy would be one of those sort."

"Oh no, he were a real gentleman. He could have taken advantage of me there and then, you see..." (and she lowered her voice to an almost stage-whisper, which, Thomas though, was pointless as he could still hear her every word) "..._we'd had a bit of whiskey and I was feeling a little woozy, so I lay down and closed me eyes. When I opened them he was just sitting there, watching me. It was quite adorable, actually!"_

"He's a keeper, that Jimmy. Do you think he will propose?" asked Daisy, wide-eyed.

"Gosh, no, well, do you think he might?" said Ivy, perking up.

"Maybe that's why you haven't seen much of him, because he's plucking up the courage to ask!" Daisy had forgotten her jealousy and was now planning a wedding. Thomas, however, was a tad confused, to say the least. Ivy's account didn't match Jimmy's at all. Bravado aside, he couldn't see Jimmy lying about something like this. It wasn't in his nature to spread gossip. But then he couldn't see Ivy lying to Daisy, except maybe to protect her reputation. Come to think of it, he should have been more disbelieving of Jimmy in the first place, as it didn't sound like Ivy to be so willing to go so far on a first date. Maybe his love of Jimmy had stopped him from believing him a liar.

Either way, in spite of how hypocritical it made him, the thought of the two of them even kissing was enough to make Thomas insanely jealous.

The dreams were becoming a regular occurrence for Jimmy now. Every morning he would wake up, covered in sweat, and sometimes another, sticky, substance that he daren't let any of the housemaids see when they collected his bedsheets. He couldn't escape the images of Thomas and Tom Branson, kissing and pleasuring each other in God only knows what way. He had tried to avoid Thomas at all costs, which was easily done in the day but seeing as they shared a room, nigh on impossible to do completely. To make matters worse, he always seemed to look happy these days, and he wasn't sure why but it was starting to eat him up inside.

_I thought Thomas fancied me! Not that I care, of course, but he did tell Tom that he loved me, ok that was right before they did stuff but ... _his thoughts trailed round and round in circles until they made even less sense. All he knew was that he'd never felt so depressed. He couldn't understand his feelings, and there was a tiny part of him that he was desperately trying to ignore but couldn't.

He had started going to bed as early as possible, in the hope that he could get changed and pretend to be asleep by the time Thomas had finished his nightly cigarette, thus avoid talking, eye contact, and accidental arousal at seeing Thomas getting undressed. _No I did not just think that! _Tonight was one of those nights. As soon as they were dismissed, he'd almost run straight to his room before anyone had got out of their chairs.

However, Thomas was a man on a mission tonight. Although he knew it was none of his business, he was determined to get the truth out of Jimmy. He tried to convince himself it was for Ivy's benefit, but really it was for his own. He followed Jimmy to their room straight away, forgoing his usual smoke.

As he entered the room, Jimmy was already half dressed for bed. _Half undressed, _thought Thomas, appreciating Jimmy's smooth chest, toned muscular torso and washboard stomach. _Ok, focus. Stop staring at Jimmy, you'll freak him out._

"Jimmy! Might I have a word before we go to bed? Not together, of course," Thomas added hurriedly, slightly cringing at his choice of wording.

"I'm a bit tired tonight, Carson had me nose to the grindstone all day. Can it wait?" said Jimmy , quickly putting on his pyjama top and getting into bed.

"Not really, no. Erm, do you remember that night you got a little tipsy on wine, and told us about your date with Ivy?"

"Yeah, vaguely. What of it?" Jimmy wasn't expecting this to be the topic of conversation at all, and was feeling uneasy about where it was going. He had tried to block all memory of that night completely.

"Well, I heard Ivy talking to Daisy about it this morning. She said you were the perfect gentleman, even though by the sounds of it you got her drunk! So either she's lying, to save her modesty, or you are, and you're giving her a bad reputation. What really happened that night, Jimmy?"

Thomas wasn't sure what Jimmy's reaction was going to be. He certainly wasn't expecting Jimmy to burst into tears.

Silence fell between them. Thomas was shocked. He was expecting Jimmy to either confess to exaggerating, or agreeing that Ivy was holding back some of the finer details. He didn't know what to do. Awkwardly, he moved over to Jimmy's bed and sat down at the opposite end, not wanting to crush Jimmy's feet. "Do you, want to talk about it? We are friends now, Jimmy. I won't tell a soul."

"No I bloody don't want to talk about it!" Jimmy shouted, his tears turning to anger. "What's it to do with you, anyway?! It's none of your sodding business!"

"I'm just concerned for Ivy, that's all. It's not fair on her if you go around muddying her reputation like that!" replied Thomas, trying to be diplomatic.

"Reputation?! And what would _you _know about reputation, Mr Barrow?! Yours and Mr Branson's reputation, to be precise!" Jimmy regretted saying it almost immediately. Thomas' face went crimson, a combination of anger and embarrassment.

"What the...?" Thomas was taken aback. Tom and he had been careful not to be spotted, he was sure of it. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes you do, and you've got the cheek to come and reprimand me for lying about Ivy. You're a fine one to talk!" Jimmy, his sorrow forgotten, had jumped to his feet and was standing over Thomas, his tear streaked face about a foot away from Thomas' own.

"And where the hell are you getting these ideas from, your own warped imagination? I didn't think you was into that kind of thing!" Thomas knew it was a cheap shot, but he wasn't expecting Jimmy's fist in his face as a result.

"I WAS THERE! DON'T CALL ME A LIAR! I HEARD YOU! The other night, when you and Mr Branson were doing God knows what, I was right here, in my own bed! It was disgusting!" Thomas didn't know whether to be more shocked at Jimmy's punch or his words. He couldn't decipher what Jimmy was trying to say – how could he have been there? Wasn't he out with Ivy?

Thomas, not knowing how to react to Jimmy's confession, took a step backwards, holding his face where Jimmy had struck it. He deftly turned around and walked out the door. He needed some air. He reached the back door and upon exiting, crashed into someone who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Thomas! I wasn't expecting to see you tonight!" It was Tom, shaking the mud off of his boots. "I've just been walking the dog and...are you all right?" He looked at Thomas' face and saw the red imprint Jimmy had left. Tears had also begun to fall down his cheeks; now that Jimmy knew his secret, he was sure to be sacked without a reference. And he had blown any chance of a friendship with Jimmy forever. That was the part that hurt the most.

"Jimmy knows. About our...liaisons. He was there. In our room. That night. He was in his bed. He heard the whole thing."

Tom dropped to the floor, his head in his hands. He, like Thomas, was sure they hadn't been seen. This was a disaster. "What if the Granthams find out? What if they hear that I've been going with a man? They'll never let me see Sybil again, I'm sure of it! How could you be so stupid!"

"Me? How is it my fault? I'm pretty sure there were two of us in that bed! You came to find me, don't forget!"

"Well you could have checked to make sure he wasn't in his before inviting me in! So yes, it IS your fault! If I get put in prison for this, I'll never see Sybil again! Damn you, Thomas!" Tom was shaking with rage.

"And what is going to happen to me when they find out I 'seduced' you?! This is not the first time I have been cautioned for this sort of behaviour, there's no way they'll be so kind the second time round. I wish this had never happened!"

"Shut up, Thomas, you don't know what it's like to have a child you might never see again. It's not like you'll ever be able to bear children, is it, you queer!"

Thomas doesn't remember the exact moment he wrestled Tom to the ground, taking out his rage on Tom's face with his fists. He doesn't remember Tom giving as good as he got, grabbing his arms and twisting them behind his back while he pinned Thomas to the ground to stop him lashing out.

Strangely enough, the only parts he remembers about that night are the way he unbuttoned Tom's trousers and his own with his good hand whilst pressing a willing Tom up against the wall. He remembers quite vividly him whipping out his hard cock and shoving it into Tom's tight arse, thrusting as hard and fast as he could, his breathing erratic, his hands entwined with Tom's against the crumbling brick. He also remembers coming hard inside Tom, biting Tom's shoulder to stop him from yelling out and waking the other servants.

There was also the part where Tom took his turn, sliding first his fingers and then his cock into Thomas' pert behind. And the bit where Tom dug his nails into Thomas' waist, pushing downwards with all his strength whilst shoving upwards with his own pelvis. Where, Thomas, instead of waiting for Tom to explode into him, turned round, dropped to his knees and took Tom's wet, pulsating cock into his mouth, sucking and licking like a ravenous animal, devouring its prey. And he definitely remembered the bit where, sensing Tom was about to come in his mouth, he stopped sucking and directed the sticky white spray over his face, rubbing the tip around his lips and licking the saltiness from around his mouth.

Thomas decided that he should have angry sex more often.

Jimmy watched as Thomas got to his feet and wiped his face on his sleeve. Skulking away from the window, he stifled a sob and ran back to his room before Thomas could realise he'd been followed.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you lovely people for reading and reviewing, I hope you are still enjoying it! Will update again tomorrow!**

* * *

Thomas and Jimmy spent the next few days avoiding each other as much as possible. Thomas was constantly on edge, just waiting for Carson to pull him aside and give him his notice. He knew that one word from Jimmy would result in him being sacked with no reference; Carson wouldn't be likely to give him yet another chance. He couldn't believe he'd been so careless – Tom was right, he should have checked Jimmy's bed more carefully. Standing outside, he lit up a cigarette and leant cautiously against the back door.

_Poor Jimmy, _he thought whilst dragging on the cigarette, still feeling horrified for the lad, _he was completely traumatised by me trying to kiss him last year – what must he think about hearing full blown sex a few feet away from his bed? I've completely thrown away any chance of friendship, but that's the least of my worries. He's sure to tell Carson, or Mrs Hughes. I'm surprised he hasn't done it already though. I've got to talk to him, make him understand! Or at least keep him quiet._

Jimmy's head was a mess. He was trying to concentrate on Alfred's story regarding one of the new housemaids, but he wasn't listening. He didn't know what to think any more. Everything he thought to be true, was false, and everything he thought was wrong, was starting to feel right.

_I'm not supposed to feel like this, _he thought, nodding in the correct places for Alfred to think he was listening, _but I can't help it. I thought men were supposed to like girls, and girls were supposed to like men. Two men in't right. It's against the law, and God. But doesn't God approve of any kind of love? Not that I'm in love with Thomas, Mr Barrow, _he corrected himself. _But all I know is that when I see him with Mr Branson, it tears my insides to pieces. I've never felt like that about Ivy, even when Alfred went to the pictures with her. And I had my chance with her, didn't I? _

Feeling lost and confused, he mumbled an excuse about needing some fresh air and stumbled out the back door, knocking Thomas, who was just finishing his cigarette, flying to the ground.

"Bloody watch where you're going, will you? Oh, it's you," said Thomas, looking up at Jimmy from the dusty paving he had fallen on.

"S-sorry, Thomas, I mean Mr Barrow," said Jimmy, mortified, not looking him in the eye. "I'll just, erm..."

"It's all right Jimmy, no harm done," said Thomas, "Actually, I was wondering if I might have a word with you."

"Now? Here?!" Jimmy suddenly remembered that this was the very spot where he had watched Thomas and Branson's lust-filled goings on, a few nights before.

"Not here, let's go to our room. As long as you promise not to hit me again!" he said, half-smiling, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I'm sorry about that Mr Barrow, really I am." Jimmy followed Thomas back to their room, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Carson was going to complain about the noise. _What do I say? What can I say? I don't know if I'm ready to open up to Thomas. I need to think about this..._

"Jimmy." It was Thomas' softly spoken voice that brought him out of his thoughts. They were each sitting on their own beds, heads down, not knowing where to look. "I need to apologise to you. You shouldn't have had to listen to what me and, er, Mr Branson were doing. I am horrified and it won't happen again. I can't imagine what kind of position this has put you in. I am just grateful that you haven't gone straight to Carson, or the police. I don't expect you to forgive me, or understand, but I need you to know that from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry." Thomas spoke every word carefully, looking up at Jimmy's face to gauge his reaction. Jimmy's face stayed blank; as usual, thought Thomas, he wasn't giving anything away.

"I'm sorry for hitting you," repeated Jimmy, head still down, "I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong of me." Pausing for a few seconds, he continued. "I did come after you, to apologise. I couldn't find you anywhere..."

_Oh, God, no, _thought Thomas, his heart sinking, _please don't say he saw us outside!_

"...at first. Then I looked out the window of the kitchen, and saw..." Jimmy stopped, not knowing how to describe the brutality of the imagery he witnessed.

Thomas' head fell into his hands. To think that Jimmy had witnessed, with his eyes and not just his ears this time, what had happened was horrifying. He felt his eyes prickle with tears, for surely this time Jimmy wouldn't keep this to himself. He had seen too much; more than anyone should have to witness. He felt a loathing towards himself that he hadn't felt since the night he had wrongly assumed Jimmy reciprocated his feelings.

"...and that's not the only time I saw you. I saw you both in the garage, in one of the cars. That day I'd been drinking and acting out of sorts." Jimmy looked embarrassed. He remembered how that occasion had ended, with him going back to his room to relieve himself. He flushed.

Thomas was dumbfounded. How Jimmy had kept all this to himself was a miracle, considering how quick he was to tell Carson about the kiss. Hardly daring to ask, but desperate to know the answer, he looked up at Jimmy and said, "I don't understand...how comes you haven't mentioned any of this to Carson yet? Or Mrs Hughes? Or Alfred (God forbid)?"

"I don't know. I was confused. I didn't know what I was seeing." Jimmy was also starting to cry now, which left Thomas feeling slightly perplexed. _Why is he upset? There's something not quite right about this._

"Jimmy – can you tell me what really happened that night you went out with Ivy? I won't tell a soul, and even if I tried, you know enough about me to have me slung in prison with the key thrown away. I just want to understand."

"We...didn't do all those things I said. I've never done any of those things, if you hadn't guessed. I tried to..." he tailed off, looking up at Thomas' blue eyes, glistening with tears.

"Tried to...how? Please tell me you didn't force her!" Thomas was momentarily shocked. He didn't think that Jimmy would go with a girl against her wishes.

"No! Of course not. She'd had a bit of whiskey, and was relaxed, like. It was wrong, I know that now. I just thought if she was willing, we could do it and I wouldn't be a ..." he stopped, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"A what, Jimmy?"

"A...someone with no experience." Jimmy couldn't bring himself to use the word 'virgin'. "But...I couldn't do it. I just couldn't."

"Well, that's very noble of you, Jimmy. I'm proud of you for not taking advantage, and Ivy is certainly smitten. She thinks you're going to propose, you know." Thomas, although sad at the thought that Jimmy could not be his, smiled kindly at Jimmy, to show him that he was proud of the boy.

At the thought of marriage, Jimmy heaved a loud sob. "No, God, no!" he cried, banging his fists against the mattress. "That can't happen!"

"Do you not like Ivy then? You showed her great respect, I thought you would be pleased?" Thomas couldn't bear to see Jimmy looking so sad.

"You don't understand, Mr Barrow. When I said I couldn't do it, I meant, I didn't _want_ to. Well I did want to, but I, _couldn't..._I don't know, I'm just so confused! That's why I was back early, that's why I was here when you and..." he couldn't say the name, he was scared that his jealousy of Mr Branson would be too obvious. He asked a question he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer to. "Why do you go to see, _him_, apart from to...do _that_?"

Thomas, taken aback at the change in direction of the conversation, looked up at Jimmy in surprise. "Friendship, companionship, fun. He makes me forget about... the pain in my life." Jimmy knew that the _pain_ Thomas was referring to was partly his fault.

"Do you love him?" said Jimmy, so quietly, it was almost to himself. Terrified of the answer, he looked up at Thomas.

"What? Do I love..._Mr Branson?_" He almost laughed at the thought. "No! Not in that way anyway." _Why?_ He wanted to ask, hardly daring to let himself think that Jimmy could be showing signs of jealousy.

Jimmy's voice became even quieter. "Do you still love me?" It was barely more than a whisper, and his whole body was trembling. He knew that the answer would either break his heart or set him free.

"Do you want me to?" asked Thomas, scared that by saying yes, he would scare Jimmy off, and by saying no, he would hurt Jimmy's already low self esteem.

"Maybe," came the reply, in the smallest voice Jimmy could muster.

Thomas could hardly believe what was happening. Here was Jimmy, sad, lonely, confused, wanting. He _wanted_ Thomas to love him. Thomas' heart was swelling, but he knew he had to tread carefully. He remembered himself, at Jimmy's age, coming to terms with his own feelings. It was terrifying, life changing. He slowly rose from his bed and sat next to Jimmy, being careful not to brush against him.

"Do you mean that? Because if you don't, please tell me. You don't know how much I've wanted to hear that, and how much it hurt that night when you pushed me away. I can't face that happening again, I won't." Thomas looked at Jimmy's face, aching for a reply. Time seemed to stand still, yet it felt like minutes passed.

"I mean it. I don't know what I feel, but all I know is that seeing you and Mr Branson together both hurt me and made me feel, I don't know, happy, at the same time. I can't bear it. I know I need you." Jimmy turned his head up to face Thomas, so that their faces were inches apart. It took all of Thomas' efforts to not lunge forward and kiss his handsome, tear soaked lips. Instead, he slowly moved his hand towards Jimmy's, placing them together, his heart skipping a beat as their skin made contact. Jimmy didn't try to move his hand away, and Thomas' heart leapt.

"I can't promise you anything, Mr Barrow."

"Please don't call me that, call me Thomas."

"All right, Thomas. I can't tell you anything more. I'm still trying to work it out myself. Please promise me one thing, though."

"Anything, Jimmy." Thomas would have, and always would have, done anything for the young footman.

"Please don't see Mr Branson again. I couldn't bear it," he pleaded, tightening his grip on Thomas' hand.

"I promise," said Thomas, smiling properly for the first time in months.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: this is a long chapter and it contains A LOT of M/M slash. Enjoy it! ;)**

* * *

_Don't get your hopes up, _thought Thomas to himself, as he left the room he shared with Jimmy after their conversation. _He is still a long way from declaring his love for me. I've got to tread so carefully for the next few days. I'll let him come to me when he's ready. _Wondering how he was going to get through the next hour, let alone the next day, after the conversation he had just had, he headed downstairs and out the back door for a quick smoke to clear his head. O'Brien was already out there. Although Thomas knew that O'Brien was the manipulator behind his almost ruined life, he did miss the days they used to scheme and plot to bring down the people they felt had wronged them. There was a time when she would have been pleased that he was now under butler, and they would have been planning how to get Carson to take early retirement no doubt.

"You're looking far too happy these days," she said, exhaling a plume of smoke. "Don't tell me you've got yourself an earl or a duke to be looking after. You should be very careful after what happened with Jimmy."

"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it, thank you very much," replied Thomas, not wanting to give anything away. O'Brien would be the most dangerous person to confide in right now. "Maybe I'm just happy that the house is getting back to normal after the death of Mr Crawley. It's good that they have Branson, to help out with the things that Mr Crawley would have otherwise been taking care of. He's been a real rock for them."

"Hark at you licking Mr Branson's boots for him!" O'Brien turned to Thomas in surprise. "I thought you couldn't stand the man! When he started eating upstairs with them lot you had enough to say about him then, none of it good if I remember rightly."

"I think he deserves a fair chance. It can't have been easy for him losing Lady Sybil like he did. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone." Thomas looked up at the sky as he remembered Sybil's kindness, and felt a little guilty all of a sudden.

"Well I'd be careful about singing his praises too much," warned O'Brien. "Or I'll think you have taken a fancy to him. I'm pretty sure if you tried to kiss him it's be a lot more than your job you'd lose."

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm pretty sure last time I checked, Mr Branson only had an eye for the ladies," he lied, trying to look convincing.

"That's just it – I don't think you should be checking at all!" finished O'Brien with a wry smile. She put out her cigarette and went back inside.

_Well, I won't be seeing Tom anymore, and it's probably just as well, now that she is sniffing around for gossip. She's right – if anyone found out about Tom and me, we'd both be out and I'd probably be locked up. I will miss his company though...hopefully I'll get to spend more time with Jimmy now which will more than make up for it..._

He exhaled the last of his smoke and went back inside. Dinner was almost certainly about to be served and he didn't want to get on the wrong side of Carson. Although he thought it unlikely that Jimmy would be saying anything to the butler, he didn't have any guarantee.

* * *

It was getting late. Thomas had already decided to give Jimmy some space to let him think, so he didn't go straight up to bed once the servants were dismissed that evening. He decided to go for a walk, taking in the night air and looking up at the stars.

_I've always loved the night sky,_ he thought, staring into the indigo abyss. _Maybe if Jimmy wants to, I can bring him out here with me one night and we can just lay together and look at the stars. I've got a few lucky ones I need to thank! _As he looked upwards, he thought of Sybil, and Edward, the blinded soldier from the hospital, and wondered if they were up there looking down on him. He had never been religious; after all, it was God who rendered him a sinner by laying with another man. But he still believed in something...if Jimmy gave himself to him then he would maybe start to believe there _was _a God after all.

* * *

Jimmy made his way up to bed, exhausted. It wasn't enough that he was mentally struggling with his own feelings; his duties as a footman seemed to be increasing every day. He didn't have much time to think during the day and he couldn't work out if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

_At least I'll have a little bit of time to myself whilst Thomas is having his night time cigarette. Then maybe when he comes to bed we can talk some more._

But Jimmy started to wonder where Thomas was when he was dressed in his pyjamas and getting into bed. He had taken longer to get undressed as he was stopping every few minutes to think; so he knew that Thomas should definitely be back by now. He crawled into bed, feeling lonely and sad.

_What if he's gone to see Mr Branson again? He promised he wouldn't! I know I haven't promised him anything yet, but surely if he really does love me he won't want to hurt me anymore. _

Trying not to think about the two of them together, he waited a few more minutes and when Thomas didn't show, he lay down in his bed and tried to sleep. The pain he felt at the thought of Thomas going to see Tom instead of coming to see him had certainly confirmed his feelings for the under butler, and as bleak as resigning himself to a lifetime of lies and secrecy might seem, he knew that having Thomas by his side would help to ease some of that when they were alone. Sighing, he put his head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Jimmy found himself walking towards the room of Tom Branson. He had never set foot in it before, but he almost knew what sight would be before him when he turned the door handle. He pushed the door slowly and looked in as the door swung open. There, on the bed, he saw Thomas, completely naked; his wrists tied to the bedposts with dressing gown cords. Thomas was panting heavily, his attention focused on the man standing on the other side of the room, who was masturbating his semi-erect cock, moving slowly towards the bed. Jimmy's head spun. Neither of them seemed to notice he had entered the room._

_"Are you ready for me, Mr Barrow?" asked Tom Branson, grinning at the sight before him. "Or shall I keep you waiting just a little bit longer?"_

_"No! Please!" Begged Thomas, his own cock stiffened against his stomach. "Touch me! I need to feel your hands, your mouth, anything!"_

_"Hmm, I suppose you've been waiting long enough. But I'm not going to touch you just yet," teased Tom, getting onto the bed and pushing Thomas' legs apart as far as he could. "I'm going to have some fun of my own first."_

_Being careful not to touch Thomas' quivering cock, Tom bent Thomas' legs up at the knees and licked his fingers. "Thomas, I must say you're looking very inviting," said Tom, his eyes widening as he slowly circled Thomas' entrance with his saliva soaked fingers. _

_Jimmy watched, horrified. Although he had seen the two of them having sex before, he wasn't quite sure what it entailed. He stared as Tom lowered himself to the bed and pushed the head of his cock between Thomas' pale buttocks. He gasped when Tom's cock slowly disappeared into Thomas' entrance; Thomas taking the Irish man fully inside him, groaning in pleasure or pain, Jimmy couldn't tell. Tom started fucking Thomas hard; his hips fluid in their movement to thrust harder and deeper into Thomas each time, eliciting moans from both men – Thomas, as he felt every inch of Tom's cock opening him up and rubbing against his g-spot; Tom, as he felt Thomas' hot passage squeezing the juices leaking from the end of his cock. _

_Feeling the familiar sensation of arousal, Jimmy looked down as his own cock was hard and throbbing. He hadn't realised he was naked; he wondered what had happened to his pyjamas. He grabbed hold of his cock and started pumping vigorously, letting out a loud moan as he watched the scene unfold before him._

_Thomas, hearing Jimmy's moan, looked up at him from where he was shackled to the bed and momentarily looked shocked. His eyes traveled from Jimmy's face down to where Jimmy was masturbating unashamedly, and a smile spread slowly across his face._

_"Tom, I think we have company," he said, nodding over to where Jimmy was standing by the door. "What do you think we should do about that?"_

_Tom turned round, which caused Thomas to wince as Tom was still fully penetrating him. "Well if it isn't young Jimmy? What can we do for you?"_

_Jimmy, completely unable to speak, found himself gravitating towards the bed in the middle of them room. Still holding his cock in his right hand, he stood at the side of the bed and waited. Tom, who had turned his attention back to indulging in the sweet sensation of Thomas' arse, looked round at Jimmy and reached out his hand towards Jimmy's glistening cock, grabbing it tightly and pumping up and down the shaft. _

_"Aaah!" exclaimed Jimmy, his knees starting to buckle at the touch of another man. He had never been touched by anyone else before, and the sensation was strangely unfamiliar. He didn't know if he liked it or not; Tom's hand was rubbing harshly and without consideration._

_"So you've found your voice then?" asked Thomas, delighting in the image before him. Jimmy nodded. "And you've found us – I'm glad you came." His lips twitched at his choice of words. Jimmy stood awkwardly whilst Tom continued masturbating him and fucking Thomas at the same time. Jimmy could feel himself nearing orgasm; although Tom's hand was rough, it still felt better than his own, and all at once he felt the familiar sensation of ejaculating. White liquid shot everywhere – most of it landed on Thomas' stomach and cock; not intentionally, but Jimmy couldn't help but feel ecstatic at covering Thomas with his own seed. Thomas, having not been touched since arriving in the room, couldn't contain himself any longer – the sight of Jimmy's cock exploding over his own was all his Christmasses come at once. He arched his back and his wrists pulled against their restraints; closing his eyes and tipping back his head he moaned loudly as he released all over himself, his cock spurting, three, four, five times, until there was nothing left inside him. _

_Tom, having witnessed the two servants reaching their climax, closed his eyes and gave one last push, digging his nails into Thomas' thighs as he came inside him, shuddering with pleasure. Jimmy was still standing where Tom had left him, dripping and spent. He was unsure what to do next. Tom had removed himself and sat at the foot end of the bed, watching to see what Jimmy was going to do next. Thomas decided to make up his mind for him._

_"Jimmy, untie me. If all three of us are to fit on this bed, I need to make some space." Obediently, Jimmy undid the cords that were restraining Thomas. He noticed Thomas' flinch as he removed them; and saw the deep red marks digging into Thomas' wrists. _

_Thomas rubbed his wrists and moved up towards the head of the bed. He motioned for Jimmy to join him, and when Jimmy leaned in to kiss Thomas, Thomas grabbed his head and pushed it down to his waist._

_"Suck me, Jimmy," he said with conviction and lust. "I want you to put my cock in your pretty little mouth. I have done since the day you walked into the kitchen."_

_Jimmy was startled at Thomas' direct instruction, and tentatively licked all of Thomas' and his own juices from Thomas' stomach, gradually getting closer to Thomas' cock. Scared, he opened his mouth and placed it on Thomas' head, extracting a deep moan from Thomas as he closed his mouth and began to suck._

_"Harder! Deeper!" Instructed Thomas, grabbing Jimmy's head and forcing his cock into Jimmy's throat, causing him to gag slightly. Jimmy tried to accommodate Thomas in his mouth as best he could, but he could see he was struggling to do what Thomas wanted. He felt a hand squeeze his balls; Tom had shifted forward and was eyeing the young boy's entrance greedily. His attention primarily on pleasing Thomas, he tried to ignore the fingers that were pushing their way into his arse, opening him up for taking. He tensed up, causing him to bite down a little on Thomas' shaft._

_"Ow, careful Jimmy! Teeth are hard and sharp, you know! Just relax and let Tom fuck you, and keep sucking. I want to come in your mouth." Thomas tipped his head back, keeping his hands on Jimmy's head to ensure the young footman kept sucking. He watched as Tom rubbed saliva over his cock, preparing himself to take Jimmy's virginity with delight._

_Jimmy felt the head of Tom's cock pressing against his arse. He tensed up again, fearing the pain he had seen when Tom had done the same to Thomas. "Do as Thomas said, relax!" said Tom, grabbing Jimmy's hips and rotating his pelvis to get a better angle. "Relax and let me fuck you. It's what you want, isn't it?"_

_Jimmy, his tongue lapping at Thomas' slit as his mouth pressed hard on Thomas' shaft, didn't get the chance to answer. Tom impatiently slammed into Jimmy, causing Jimmy to buck; Thomas' cock falling back onto his stomach as it fell from Jimmy's now clenched mouth. The pain was intense, more than anything Jimmy had ever felt before. It felt unnatural, and wrong. He felt every slight movement as Tom slowly withdrew his cock and hurtled it back in again, always deeper, always faster. There was something addictive about the pain; Jimmy began to relax and took Thomas back into his mouth._

_"There's a good boy," said Thomas, a little too patronising. "Now don't stop until you've swallowed every last drop that I'm going to shoot into your mouth. You're not too bad at this, you know." He removed one of his hands from Jimmy's head and took Jimmy's left hand into his. Jimmy's heart swelled at what he thought was a sign of affection; however, Thomas promptly guided Jimmy's hand to his own entrance, and intimated for Jimmy to push his fingers in. Jimmy was clueless as to what he should do with them once they were there, but was grateful for the distraction – Tom was thrusting harder and deeper and it was blissful agony. Jimmy slid his fingers in and out of Thomas' arse, and felt Thomas clench around them. He felt Thomas' cock swelling even more; Jimmy's own painfully rubbed against the bed linen underneath them; he had come almost as soon as he put Thomas' cock in his mouth, saying nothing to save his embarrassment at how quickly he had given in to the stimulation. _

_Jimmy's mouth moved up and down Thomas' shaft, whilst his right hand pumped away at the inches he couldn't quite fit in his mouth. Thomas arched his back and with an almighty groan, came in Jimmy's mouth, which caused Jimmy to nearly choke as he tasted the salty liquid on his tongue and felt it slide down the back of his throat. Thomas opened his eyes just as Tom pulled his cock out and spurted over Jimmy's buttocks and back, masturbating furiously to squeeze out every last drop onto the young man he had just fucked so ungraciously._

_Jimmy looked up at Thomas, and hoped that now he was satisfied, he would show some love or affection towards Jimmy as thanks. However, Thomas just laughed and said, "Welcome to the club, Jimmy. Now you're one of us, and there's no going back. Feel free to join us again, not that you'll have much choice in the matter, I need my turn on that arse of yours!"_

_Jimmy's head span. This wasn't what he wanted at all. He thought Thomas loved him! He had just been used for sex, and he felt dirty and ashamed of himself. He needed to get out of there, and fast. He clambered out of the bed as quickly as he could but in his haste, caught his foot on the crumpled white sheets, which sent him flying to the ground, hitting his head. Everything went black._

* * *

"Jimmy?" Thomas' face appeared as Jimmy opened his eyes. He was back in his own room; his own bed. His face was wet with tears; his sheets were drenched in sweat, and Jimmy had an awful feeling that sweat was not all they were drenched in. "Jimmy?" Thomas repeated, a genuine look of concern on his face. "Are you all right? You were talking in your sleep, and thrashing about all over the place. I've been trying to wake you up for almost a minute."

Realisation dawned on Jimmy as he looked into Thomas' eyes. He'd fallen asleep waiting for Thomas to come back, and his worries about Thomas going to visit Tom had spilled into his dream.

"Oh thank God! Thank God!" he exclaimed, and threw his hands around Thomas' waist, sobbing into his chest.

Thomas was confused, but pleased. Whatever it was Jimmy had dreamt about, he hoped that it had helped him come to a conclusion about his feelings. He wrapped his arms around Jimmy and held him until he fell back to sleep.

* * *

**A/N: I hope that wasn't too much slash, and that you weren't disappointed it 'was all a dream'. I wanted to put a Thomas/Tom/Jimmy scene in but didn't think Jimmy, who's just discovering his feelings, would be willing to experiment this much 'for real', so this was my cheat's way of putting it in. It is also important for the next couple of chapters too. Apologies also for the lack of tense consistency – I keep alternating between past/present and I don't have time to go back and change it – I hope it hasn't spoilt it! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter! I will hopefully be writing the next one and submitting it tomorrow evening :) thank you for all your reviews, they mean so much especially as I am new to all this, I can't believe people take the time to read and review but it is wonderful!**

* * *

Once Jimmy had fallen asleep, Thomas gently laid him back down on the bed so his head was resting on the pillow. His heart was crying out to him to lay down next to Jimmy and keep him safe, but he didn't think it would be a good idea.

_Best I leave him for now_, he thought, moving over to his own bed, _whatever he was dreaming about sounded awful though; maybe I'll talk to him tomorrow about it. _

It was late, and Thomas was glad of his bed tonight. It didn't take him long to fall into his own dreamless slumber.

* * *

When Thomas awoke the next morning, he promised himself two things: one, to go and see Tom; to talk, and explain things, and two, to talk to Jimmy about the situation. As much as he was trying to be patient, he wanted to know what Jimmy's plans were in all of this; if Jimmy wasn't interested then he would rather know now than four weeks down the line. He looked over at Jimmy's bed; it was empty. _Is he avoiding me?_ Thought Thomas, as he got dressed hurriedly. He didn't want to be late today – Carson had told him that they were expecting guests upstairs which meant an extra effort needed to be made to ensure everything went smoothly.

Thomas didn't see much of Jimmy during the day. Carson wasn't lying when he said it would be a busy one; apparently one of the visitors was being lined up as a husband for Rose, Lord Grantham's niece, so the family wanted to impress. Thomas had been standing in the dining room beside Carson for around a half hour whilst the family were eating dinner, when his mind started wandering. Always one to take an interest in the various young suitors that passed through the house, Thomas found himself quite uninterested in this one. Yes, he was good looking, and probably a year or two ago Thomas would have been itching to take up the role of his valet to find out if there was anything in it for him, so to speak. Today, however, Thomas' thoughts, and heart, was Jimmy's, and there was nothing he could do about it.

As he surveyed the room, looking to see if anyone wanted more wine, he caught Tom Branson's eye, and smiled inwardly to himself.

_If anyone round this table knew, _he thought, blushing ever-so slightly. He noticed Tom looking at him, almost questioningly, for just a second longer than he probably should, and it jogged his memory. _Must go and see him later, _he thought.

At that moment Jimmy appeared, with Alfred, to take away the dishes. Thomas averted his absent-minded gaze from Tom and briefly caught Jimmy's eye, pleased when Jimmy returned the smallest of smiles. _This could be really fun_, thought Thomas, looking away so as to not draw attention to the silent communication between the two of them. He looked back at Tom who had noticed the eye contact; Tom looked as though he was trying not to laugh. _Well at least he's not jealous, _thought Thomas, relieved. _That'll make the conversation easier._

Once the dinner had finished and the men were onto the brandy and cigars, Thomas waited until Lord Grantham and Rose's suitor, the Duke of Kent, were deep in conversation and sidled up to Tom.

"I need to speak to you, tonight if possible," said Thomas, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"I guessed as much – I saw the look between you and Jimmy at dinner," smiled Tom, downing the last of his brandy. "Meet you in my room in 15 minutes?"

"Very good, Mr Branson," replied Thomas, not wanting to say anything incriminating in front of the family. Tom left the room and Thomas hoped he would not have to stay much longer. He was longing to get the conversation with Tom out the way so he could go to Jimmy. He looked at Carson who gave him the nod to allow him to leave. _At last._

Thomas exited the room slowly, and made his way up to Tom's bedroom. He knocked on the door and Tom appeared, beckoning him in. With a quick look around him to make sure no-one saw (especially Jimmy – he didn't want to have to explain that one later), he entered the room.

"So...Jimmy's finally come around, has he?" asked Tom, straight away. "I can't say I won't miss our liaisons, but if you love him, then he deserves to have you. But you must be careful, Thomas. I saw the look you gave each other, and there's nothing to say no-one else did, so _please_ be careful."

"Well, let's just say he hasn't quite come around yet, but he did say he was confused. He also told me not to see you again; that it hurt him when he saw us together those times." Thomas looked at Tom who was startled.

"Times?! You mean he saw us more than once?"

"Yes, he was there that night in our room, and he saw us in the car, and also when we...outside. God, can you imagine if it had been anyone else? It's probably just as well we're going to keep our distance now!" Thomas shuddered at the thought that Alfred had seen them, or Carson, and promised himself never to be so foolish again. Of course, sharing a room with Jimmy might make things a little easier...

"Christ Thomas, we are two lucky beggars. Although, it's definitely a good sign that Jimmy has witnessed all of that and hasn't gone running to Carson. You must tread carefully with the boy. Can you remember what it felt like the first time you fell in love with a man? It is not a kind time. He is lucky he has you to confide in," said Tom, folding up his clothes.

"Don't worry, I will be careful with his heart. Yes, I do remember the first time I fell in love," said Thomas, remembering the summer he had spent with the Duke of Crowborough. He had vowed never to fall in love again, and until Jimmy, he had succeeded. He knew already that he loved Jimmy so much more than he had ever loved the Duke, and he trusted him a million times more. Not wanting to waste any more time talking to Tom, he got up to leave.

"Well, good luck to you both. And Thomas?" said Tom, as Thomas went to open the door.

"Yes?"

Tom winked as he looked at Thomas, "Be gentle with him, won't you?"

Thomas found himself grinning at Tom's parting words as he walked down the corridor and towards the servants' quarters. It felt so good to have a friend like Tom, someone who knew what it felt like to have to keep his feelings secret. It had been an unusual friendship, but one that Thomas appreciated more than Tom would ever know.

He reached his bedroom and opened the door. Jimmy was getting undressed for the night, and startled as Thomas walked in.

"Jimmy! Just the man!" Thomas cringed at his choice of words, feeling nervous about what was to come. He sat down on his bed and gathered his thoughts. Trying to sound a bit more relaxed, he said: "Can we talk?"

"Yes, of course we can Mr Barrow, I mean Thomas. I need to say something as well." Jimmy was nervous too. He had only just about recovered from the vivid dream from the night before, and didn't quite know how to explain it to Thomas. He sat down on his own bed and gestured for Thomas to begin.

Thomas cleared his throat. "You know how I feel about you. You have done for a while. I have tried to keep my distance, to give you some space, but when you told me you were confused, and jealous of Tom, I mean Mr Branson, you really confused me. I thought you weren't like me? I thought I disgusted you? I want to let you discover your feelings but I need to know how far you are willing to let yourself go. It is not an easy life, Jimmy. Folk think I am strange, bitter, twisted. And maybe they're right; but only because of the way I am forced to live. I don't want to be like this, truly I don't. But I don't have a choice. You know that, don't you?" He looked up at Jimmy, who looked so innocent, so fragile, and yet so handsomely strong.

"I do. I always used to think that the things you did were wrong, disgusting, and evil," Jimmy said, remembering his dream with a shudder. "And to some extent, I still do." Thomas looked at him with a pained expression so he continued quickly, "but now I realise that you have no choice. And I know this, because..." he trailed off, not daring to speak the words he had been rehearsing in his head all day.

"Because what, Jimmy?" asked Thomas, his heart beating so loud he almost expected it to break out of his chest.

"...because, the things you feel about me, maybe I feel them too. I don't want to feel them, but I can't help it. I can't love Ivy; I can't marry her. No matter how much I want to be normal, I can't." Jimmy looked up at Thomas, and noticed a single tear rolling down the under butler's cheek. "I want _you_, Thomas. And it scares me." Jimmy's eyes filled with tears now, and before he could say anything else, Thomas stood up and started pacing round the room.

"What are you saying? Please, put me out of my misery Jimmy!" he almost shouted, a feeling of euphoria so close that he could taste it; yet he wanted to hear Jimmy confirm his feelings before giving in to the passion that filled his heart and soul.

"I think...I love you," whispered Jimmy, standing up to join Thomas where he stood, facing the wall. Before he could say anything else, Thomas had turned round and had flung himself towards Jimmy, almost two years of built-up emotion releasing in one second. Thomas wrapped his arms around Jimmy, pressing his lips onto the footman's, hungrily, but softly. Surprised, Jimmy stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do except be kissed. He slowly put his own arms around Thomas' body and pressed his hips into Thomas', relishing the warmth between their two bodies. Jimmy began to relax; he opened his mouth to allow Thomas to slide his tongue in, and ran his hand up Thomas' back to rest on his neck, stroking gently as the older man nibbled on his lip. He was surprised at how good it felt; he had expected it to feel strange and unnatural but it didn't. It felt right.

The lovers manoeuvred their way over to Jimmy's bed and allowed themselves to fall onto it, hardly breaking apart. As they lay entwined together, Thomas broke away from Jimmy's embrace to look at his handsome features.

"You know I love you too, don't you?" said Thomas, stroking the back of Jimmy's head with his good hand.

"I think so," smiled Jimmy, and pulled Thomas' face back towards his for a slow, loving kiss. As Jimmy began to get used to the idea of kissing another man, he relaxed. He slid his hands underneath Thomas' nightshirt and pulled Thomas closer. Thomas let out a whimper; everything he had been dreaming of for so long was happening right now. He mirrored Jimmy's action; he unbuttoned Jimmy's shirt and his own and pressed his chest towards Jimmy's, his skin tingling at the intimate contact with the young footman. He could feel himself getting aroused, and he suspected that the thing digging into his hip was none other than Jimmy's arousal too. Thomas knew that he had to take things slow, but he ached to take Jimmy's erection in his hand. Gently, he removed one of his hands from where he was caressing Jimmy's back. He brought it round to Jimmy's waist, over his stomach and down towards the waistband of Jimmy's pyjamas.

Thomas slipped his hand into Jimmy's pyjama bottoms, and was about to take his prize when Jimmy pulled his face away from Thomas' in horror and shoved Thomas onto the floor. "Stop it! Get off me!" shouted Jimmy, curling up into a ball, fastening his pyjama top back up.

"What's the matter, Jimmy?" Thomas looked hurt, his dreams crashing around him in a split second. He stood up and tried to sit down on the bed where Jimmy had compressed himself, but Jimmy sprang up, his back to the wall, holding his hands up in defence.

"Don't touch me! I mean it! I don't want to do that with you, not now!" Jimmy was as white as a sheet, and shaking. "Not ever!" he added, sinking to the floor, his shoulders heaving as if he was about to start sobbing.

"But I thought..." said Thomas, distressed. "I thought you wanted me to! You said you loved me!"

"I DO love you! I just don't want to do...that! It's wrong! It's not love and you know it!" Jimmy sobbed, as he brought his knees to his chest.

"Of course it's love! It's what people do when they're in love, Jimmy! I'm sorry if I pushed you into doing something that you don't want to, and I am happy to wait. But don't tell me that I'm doing it out of anything but love!" Thomas was split between feeling remorseful at pressuring Jimmy, and feeling defensive that Jimmy would suggest that sex was wrong.

"So what you and Mr Branson did – you told me that wasn't love! So how is this any different?!"

"It IS different, Jimmy! I promise! I love you – and I want to show you how much. Please...let me kiss you. I won't do anything you don't want to do, not tonight. I promise." Thomas repeated, as he leant down and tilted Jimmy's chin towards his own face with his fingers.

"But...my dream..." started Jimmy, his voice softened, looking up at Thomas through tear soaked lashes. "It was...awful..."

Thomas suddenly remembered Jimmy's agony as he dreamt last night. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked, sitting down on the floor beside Jimmy.

"It was awful," Jimmy repeated, as the images flashed before his eyes. "I don't know if I can..."

"Please try," said Thomas, sensing it might explain Jimmy's reaction to his unwanted touch.

"All right, I'll tell you."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry to end on a bit of a cliff-hanger but I didn't want to rush into the Thomas/Jimmy love-slash, I wanted it to be realistic as it's a whole new experience for Jimmy. I promise to put the next chapter up by the end of tomorrow however! Please R & R!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**

**_These thoughts I must not think of, _**

**_Dreams I can't make sense of, _**

**_I need you, to tell me it's okay..._**

**Lyrics from When Anger Shows by Editors – I have listened to their music A LOT recently and so many of their songs seem to relate to Thomas and Thomas/Jimmy.**

* * *

Thomas sat in silence whilst Jimmy tried to explain his dream. Jimmy wasn't crying any more, but he was angry and embarrassed by the words that he knew he had to get out if he was to make Thomas understand.

"...you were in Mr Branson's room, on his bed, and he was there too, and you were both...not wearing any clothes," Jimmy mumbled, looking at the floor.

_Well that doesn't sound too bad, _thought Thomas, his gaze not leaving Jimmy's face.

"...and you were tied to the bed..."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. _Well, at least he's got a good imagination...I think we might have to put that to good use!_ Sensing that there was more to come, he shook the images out of his head and concentrated on what Jimmy was saying.

"...and Mr Branson was...well, he put his...inside you..." Jimmy couldn't find the words even if he wanted to. He'd never talked about sex with anyone before, save the two men down the pub, but even then he had been the one doing the listening, not the talking.

"Well, Jimmy, I know two men weren't designed for..." Thomas started, but Jimmy put up his hand to silence him. "There's more?" said Thomas, leaning back against the wall, his imagination working overtime.

Jimmy continued, slowly. "Then, I was there too. I was standing by the bed, and you saw me, and I wasn't wearing any clothes either. And Mr Branson, he...touched me, but he was still...in you, and it felt...strange, not good, but not bad either."

Thomas had a bad feeling he was enjoying this dream of Jimmy's more than he should be. He felt his pyjama bottoms tighten; and was somewhat relieved when he glanced over at Jimmy's groin and saw an unmistakeable bulge there too. "Go on," he said, trying not to sound too eager.

"...well, then I, well you know what happens, you're a man. I won't say it!" Jimmy was frustrated; he had sensed his arousal and was ashamed.

"It's all right, I think I know what you mean," said Thomas, trying not to smile.

"And then you did the same, and then Mr Branson did as well. It was all a bit of a mess really," said Jimmy, in a slightly lighter tone than he had started with. "But then..." he continued, as Thomas' eyes rolled back at the thought that there was more yet to come, "...then, you made me untie you, and, I wanted to kiss you but you pushed my head down to your..." Jimmy gestured towards Thomas' groin, blushing as he saw how aroused Thomas was at that moment in time.

"Hmm, well I'm sure I would want to kiss you first, Jimmy," said Thomas, whose head was filled instantly with images of Jimmy's pink lips taking him into his mouth. Once again, he attempted to rid those images – he needed to stay focused on what Jimmy was struggling to tell him.

"You didn't. You pushed me down, and I did what you wanted, even though I didn't have a clue. But then...Mr Branson...he was behind me and he..." Jimmy trailed off, shuddering at the memory, even if wasn't a real one.

All of a sudden Thomas' heart sank. No matter how aroused he was listening to Jimmy's dream, he remembered what his first time had been like, and it was agony.

"..he, put his...in me, and I know it wasn't real, but I never knew pain like it. Now, don't tell me that you do that to someone you love!" Jimmy's eyes flashed, soaked with tears. He continued, crying, "He kept pushing into me, and it hurt so much, and you were enjoying watching me suffer. Even when the physical pain was numbing, it hurt more that you didn't kiss me, or hold me, or tell me you loved me. Afterwards you both laughed at me, and it was horrible. If that's what you do with another man, I don't want to do it. If you love someone, why would you want to hurt them?"

Thomas, his previous arousal forgotten, felt his heart cry out for Jimmy. Although parts of the dream were uncannily accurate, and Thomas had enjoyed listening, he realised now why Jimmy was so afraid of being touched. He reached his hand over to Jimmy's arm, slowly, and was relieved when Jimmy didn't flinch.

"It's not like that, Jimmy. Well, it can be..." Thomas' mind drifted back to a long summer in London, but seeing Jimmy's horrified expression, he hastily continued: "...but not if you love one another. I would never do all those things and laugh at you, or not kiss you. I love kissing you already, and we only did that for the first time tonight!" _The previous kiss doesn't count,_ he thought, guiltily.

"But I saw you and Mr Branson doing those things for real – in the car, and outside that night. It wasn't quite like my dream, but you were still putting your..." he glanced downwards again, "...in each other. I don't know how that can ever be love. It makes me feel quite ill."

"Jimmy, listen to me. I won't make you do anything that you don't want to, all right? I love you! But please don't think on your dream too much. It sounds like you've put everything you know about sex" Jimmy blushed at the word "into one image, and it wouldn't be right to let one dream spoil what we could have."

Jimmy closed his eyes. He wanted to believe Thomas so much, and he did love him. He would need to learn to trust him too.

"Come on, let's get you back into bed," said Thomas, standing up and gently pulling Jimmy to his feet too. "Don't worry, I will sleep in my own bed, and you in yours."

"No." Jimmy, still clutching Thomas' hand, was determined to not let a dream hold him back. "No. I want to sleep in your bed with you. Please," he added, looking at Thomas properly for the first time since they had kissed.

Thomas' heart swelled. "If you're sure, that is?"

"Yes, I mean, I just want to sleep with you tonight. If that is enough for you?" Jimmy got into Thomas' bed and pulled the covers up.

"Of course! I won't push you to do anything you aren't comfortable with. I promise." Thomas joined Jimmy in his bed, spooning him, nestling his face into the back of Jimmy's neck. He put his arms around Jimmy and kissed his neck sleepily, and smiled when Jimmy didn't object.

Within minutes, Jimmy's breathing slowed and he began to snore softly. Thomas was happy; although he hated to see Jimmy upset, he now understood why, and hoped that he could spend the next few weeks, months, even years, helping Jimmy to accept that they could have a physical relationship without pain and hurt.

_That was some dream!_ Thought Thomas, his eyes closed; a small smile spreading across his face. _I can't quite believe Jimmy thought all of that in one night – no wonder he's so exhausted! _He traced his thoughts back to the descriptions that Jimmy had mentioned, and sighed. _Tom, Jimmy AND me, all in one bed – that's certainly food for thought! Unlikely though; as much as I had fun with Tom, I love Jimmy, and he loves me. I will be patient, but I do like the sound of being tied to the bed...oh no..._

Thomas was extremely aroused. Still spooning Jimmy, he was afraid that if he moved, he would wake him. He was slightly more afraid that if Jimmy awoke, the first thing he would feel would be Thomas' stiff erection pressing into his buttocks, which wouldn't bode well, considering their earlier conversation. Jimmy stirred in his sleep, rubbing against Thomas' aching cock.

_This is torture, _Thomas thought, realising that there was not a chance in Hell that he would be able to fall asleep now. He needed to get out of that bed.

Trying not to rouse Jimmy, Thomas' uncurled himself from Jimmy's sleeping frame and got up out of the bed. He urgently needed a release, and not wanting to disturb Jimmy, he headed out the door and into the male servants' bathroom.

Once there, he didn't waste any time. He locked the door, shoved his hand into his pyjama bottoms and took his cock into his hand. Masturbating furiously, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander back to Jimmy's dream.

_...tied to the bed...Jimmy naked...Jimmy naked and hard...Jimmy's mouth...coming in Jimmy's mouth...Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy!_

And within barely a minute, Thomas had released into his other hand; his head back, his back arched. He hoped he hadn't cried out; he didn't want Alfred or Bates nosing about in the corridor. He cleaned himself up, and gently opened the door and looked out; the corridor was empty. He crept back into his room; Jimmy was laying exactly as Thomas left him, sleeping peacefully.

Thomas climbed back into bed, folding his arm around Jimmy, stroking his chest gently. Jimmy awoke, and mumbled sleepily, "Where did you go? I missed you."

"Just to the bathroom, but it's all right, I'm back now," whispered Thomas, as Jimmy turned to face him. It was dark, and Thomas could just about make out the outline of Jimmy's face in the moonlight. Just when Thomas thought he couldn't get any happier, Jimmy kissed him softly on the lips, and whispered:

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jimmy," replied Thomas, tears of joy running down his cheeks in the darkness.

* * *

**A/N: I have written another chapter for your viewing pleasure already – I couldn't just leave it there for the weekend! Read on for Chapter 13...**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I feel I kind of need to apologise for the lack of other DA characters in my story - it's just that I know when I'm reading other stories, I'm not interested in what the other characters are doing, and it would feel like unnecessary padding. I hope that's ok!**

* * *

Thomas and Jimmy awoke the next morning in each others' arms. During the night they had managed to switch positions so that Jimmy was nestled into Thomas' back. Thomas woke up first; he took a second to work out where he was and who he was with, but he soon remembered, and let out a sigh of happiness. _It's going to be all right now._ He felt Jimmy's 'morning glory' behind him, and felt his own respond immediately. _This is going to be difficult to resist, _he thought, moving to get out of bed. It was 6am – time to be getting up.

Jimmy woke up, and drew Thomas in closer. "Please don't get up yet – we can have five more minutes, surely?" he said, sleepily.

"I don't think I can stand spending five more minutes next to you without my mind turning to the gutter!" said Thomas, without thinking. He regretted his words immediately when Jimmy looked sad. "Not that that's all I want you for, of course! But you are so very handsome, and it's going to be hard to keep my hands off you! I love you!" Thomas added, brushing a lock of hair out of Jimmy's face.

"It's a good job I believe you," replied Jimmy, pulling on his clothes. "Now we've got to spend the day pretending we barely like each other," he added, with a forlorn look in his eyes.

"Do I get a kiss first? I want the taste of you on my lips all day, whilst I'm serving breakfast, and greeting guests, and..." Thomas didn't get to finish his sentence as Jimmy had pressed his lips to his own, sending warm waves crashing down through Thomas' body in an instant. "Mmmmm!"

Retracting his lips, Jimmy said: "Is that all right for you? I could get used to this. I'll remember it when I'm being told off by Carson, and when Alfred is bending my ear about Ivy again. I can't wait to see you again tonight..." he added, shyly. _Get a grip Jimmy, _he said to himself, _since when did you become such a big girl? _

Luckily Thomas just smiled at him and said, "Me neither. Have a good day, Mr Kent."

"You too, Mr Barrow."

Thomas left the room and headed down to the kitchen. Carson would no doubt notice that he was two minutes late, precisely. He wondered how he would ever get through his day, knowing that Jimmy would be there when he went to bed that night.

"Ow! Look where you're going, you great oaf!" Mrs Patmore was glaring up at Thomas, three bags of flour in her hands, expecting him to retaliate as he usually did.

"Sorry, Mrs Patmore! My fault entirely! Do you need some help with that flour you're carrying?" Thomas was on top of the world. He would have made the bread himself if it meant that he got to see Jimmy sooner.

Mrs Patmore eyed his suspiciously. "What are you up to, Mr Barrow? I haven't seen you so pleased since Mr Bates got sent to prison. I hope you haven't got any nasty tricks up your sleeve?"

"Me, nasty? I think you're mistaken Mrs Patmore. I'm feeling fine as a dandy today!"

"Well, mind that you keep that good mood up. I much prefer you when you're like this – even if it means you're not looking where you're going!" Mrs Patmore departed with a shake of her head. _That boy...he never ceases to amaze and confuse me!_

* * *

Thomas went about his day as usual, except that today things looked a little brighter, flowers had more colour, white linen looked a little more crisp. He relished the times that he saw Jimmy; mealtimes for the family, as well as their own mealtimes. During dinner, he almost regretted winking at Jimmy whilst the footmen were serving – a boat of gravy almost ended up over Lady Mary as Jimmy flustered at Thomas' bold glances. _Still, it's fun, _thought Jimmy, praising himself for catching the gravy boat in time.

Tom Branson, aware of the relationship, struggled to contain his composure as he watched the flirtatious behaviour between the two of them during dinner. Jimmy was wary of Tom; after all, he saw him as almost in competition with him for Thomas' affections, and he still hadn't forgotten the image of Tom in his dream, thrusting into him without a care for the younger boy.

After dinner, in the corridor, Tom pulled Thomas aside: "Thomas! I have something I want to talk about with you, do you have ten minutes to spare?" Tom looked a little strained, and Thomas knew he owed him a friendly shoulder to cry on.

"Yes, I can spare ten minutes whilst the men are making their way into the smoking room. Is everything ok?" Thomas followed him into an empty drawing room.

"It's fine Thomas, nothing to worry about. It's just...remember James who I told you about, the man I loved back in Ireland?" Thomas nodded. "After talking to you about Jimmy, it inspired me to write to him. I didn't really know what to say...we didn't leave on the best of terms. He got married to a young lass and had a family. Anyway...he's written back, I received it today. His missus died of the Spanish 'flu, and he's got a little boy to look after on his own. He wants me to come over to Ireland to see him, but I can't, I'll get arrested."

Thomas was listening intently. "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to ask him to come here. I know how it looks – there's no way he could come to the house, let alone stay. Lord Grantham will want to know who this man is to me, and I couldn't possibly tell him. But I want to see him again. Seeing you and Jimmy happy – it has made me realise that I want that too, and that although it is difficult, it IS possible for two men to have some kind of relationship, if they love each other. And I never stopped loving James, even when I was with Sybil. I think I loved Sybil more, but she's gone now, and she'd want me to be happy."

Thomas felt the utmost sympathy for the Irish man in front of him. "I think you should ask him to come here. Be happy, Tom, I mean it. Life's too short to spend making other people happy. I should know; I saw so many men die in front of me during the war. I've been given a chance with my James; you should give yourself a chance with yours."

"And speaking of James', how is young Jimmy? Have you made a dishonest man of him yet, or is that a stupid question, considering how you were making eyes at each other over the salmon en croute this evening?" The sparkle had returned to Tom's eyes, eager to hear the details.

"Not yet, no, you see, Jimmy had a bit of a bad dream..." Thomas quickly filled Tom in on the details, including Tom's own part in the play.

"Blimey! What an imagination! He's definitely special!" Tom chuckled.

"That's what I thought...but the 'dream' has made him very wary of physical contact. He almost punched seven shades out of me when I tried to touch him last night, so I've promised to take it slowly." Thomas explained.

"It's killing you, isn't it?"

"It's killing me. I had to sort myself out last night in the bathroom, before getting back into bed. I don't know how I'm going to keep to my promise." Thomas looked at the time, aware of the fact he had to be back in the smoking room imminently.

"I'll tell you what. Bring him to my room tonight. No, don't worry, I won't be there," he added quickly, in response to Thomas' look of horror. "I don't think he'll be up for that just yet! What I meant was, bring him to my room. I'll stay somewhere else tonight. Treat him; make him feel special. Don't pressure him, but just show him how it can be. I'm sure you know how. Those servants bedrooms aren't really the place for romance; maybe he'll feel more relaxed in a nice big bed."

"As long as your room doesn't look like the one in his dream! Or he'll run for the hills!" Thomas replied. "But thank you, Tom, that's very kind of you. If kind is the right word for it!"

"No problem, Thomas. Us Tom's need to stick together. Hey, that's funny. Thomas and Jimmy; Tom and James. What a coincidence!" Tom said, almost to himself.

"Quite. Thank you again, I'd better go before Carson comes after me. I don't want anything to spoil my mood." Shaking Tom's hand (which felt strange after all they had done, but Thomas was a man of tradition after all), Thomas left the room silently and wondered towards the smoking room. He couldn't wait to see Jimmy later, in a proper bed, and romance him as best he could.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Jimmy asked, following Thomas with a candle in his hand. The two of them had been dismissed for the night, and Thomas had taken his hand and led him away from the servants' quarters, making sure no-one was watching them.

"You'll see. Come this way, we're nearly there now." Thomas reached the bedroom of Tom Branson, and looked both ways down the corridor. It was empty. "Quick! Inside!"

Jimmy followed Thomas through the door and gasped. Laid out around the giant four-poster bed was the biggest array of candles he had ever seen, flickering in the darkness, illuminating the whole room. Thomas was just as surprised as Jimmy; he didn't know Tom would go to such trouble to help him. The thought almost made his eyes tear up; Tom was a good friend after all.

"You did all this...for me?" Jimmy choked. No-one had ever done anything like this before; and he wasn't expecting it of Thomas of all people.

"Kind of," replied Thomas, taking Jimmy's hand. He didn't want to explain that it was Tom's room; it might scare Jimmy, who hadn't shown any sign of recognising it from his dream. _Phew, _thought Thomas. _It must have looked different in his dream; that's a relief._

Thomas led Jimmy over to the bed, and they sat down next to each other, holding hands. "I mean it when I say I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. Tonight is going to be above love; I am going to love you with my body, in any way you'll allow me. First of all – will you permit me to undress you? You can say no, if you like."

Jimmy looked at Thomas; in that moment, he felt like he would have ripped his clothes off and bent over, willingly, but then he came to his senses and realised what Thomas was asking. "All right," was the reply, "but no touching of _that sort_ yet. I trust you, but I want to take it slowly."

"Fine with me." Thomas kissed Jimmy full on the lips, allowing his tongue to explore Jimmy's soft mouth. He was in Heaven. He moved his hands to unbutton Jimmy's shirt, and upon reaching the last button, pulled the shirt from Jimmy's arms, relishing in the soft skin his hands brushed against. He kissed Jimmy's lips; then moved his mouth down to Jimmy's chin, trailing little kisses down his neck and onto his chest. Jimmy shivered; not with cold, but with excitement, as Thomas moved his lips down Jimmy's chest and onto his toned stomach.

Thomas felt Jimmy tense up as his mouth reached just below Jimmy's bellybutton, so he started to make his way back up again, his lips not leaving Jimmy's skin until they reached Jimmy's face once again.

"Lie on your front," Thomas requested, "I want to massage your back. You've had a busy day today, you must be aching." He looked over onto the bedside table at his knees; Tom had considerately left a bottle of oil there. _How convenient, _thought Thomas, making a mental note to thank Tom for that one.

Thomas rubbed some oil in his hands and placed them on Jimmy's bare back, massaging in circular motions, illiciting low moans from Jimmy beneath him.

"That feels really good," murmured Jimmy, closing his eyes. Thomas continued to rub the oil in, appreciating the fine form laying on the bed in front of him. Thomas loosened his own shirt, feeling warm from the vigorous movements he was making on Jimmy's back with his hands.

Thomas moved his hands further down Jimmy's back, slowly, rhythmically, until his hands were at the top of Jimmy's buttocks, still clothed but shaped so wonderfully beneath the trousers he was wearing. By now, Thomas' erection was aching; he was sure he was leaking too. The more he touched Jimmy's body, the more he wanted to indulge in it so ungraciously. He wanted to remove Jimmy's trousers, but the thought of Jimmy pushing him away was too much of a risk.

Jimmy, however, could sense Thomas' frustration, and removed his hands from where they lay underneath his head, to hook his thumbs underneath his waistband and pull down his trousers, revealing his perfectly pert behind. Thomas gasped at such a bold move, and helped Jimmy pull the trousers from his legs, leaving Jimmy completely naked.

"Can I touch you..?" trailed off Thomas, hardly daring to hear the answer.

"Yes, please. You can rub my legs and behind just like you're doing to my back. It's nice," Jimmy said, feeling more relaxed than he thought he ever would, laying naked with another man's hands on his body.

Thomas was delirious. He slicked some more oil onto his palms and laid them on Jimmy's buttocks; leaving both men short of breath as skin came into contact with skin. Thomas kneaded the oil into Jimmy's thighs and calves, and quickly made his way back up to Jimmy's behind. It was perfect; just like the rest of him. Thomas marveled at the sight before him, and wasn't quite sure what to do next. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, but he'd promised to take it slow. He leant over Jimmy and placed a kiss on one of his pert cheeks, disliking the taste of the oil he'd just rubbed there but knowing that he'd lick a whole bottle of oil from Jimmy's body if he had to.

"Oh!" exclaimed Jimmy, reacting to the feel of Thomas' lips on his behind. Thomas sprung up again, fearing he'd made a rash move.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it! It just looked so lovely!" Thomas had started to massage Jimmy's back again, trying to relax Jimmy once more.

"No, I liked it! You can do it again, if you like..." Jimmy was feeling loved. He had all but forgotten his dream; the man who had just spent half an hour rubbing oil into his back was unlikely to want to hurt him. "Please."

Thomas didn't wait for Jimmy to ask again; he placed his lips on the small of Jimmy's back and allowed his tongue to circle the spot where Jimmy's cheeks began to part. Jimmy bucked in response; the sensation tickled but he wanted more. "That's good, so good..."

Thomas kissed Jimmy's coccyx; and slowly ran his tongue down the groove towards Jimmy's entrance. Jimmy whimpered with pleasure; he had never felt anything like it. His erection was digging into the bed below him; he had to fight to keep his hands from finding it and pleasuring himself. Thomas hungrily lapped his tongue around Jimmy's entrance, sucking at the flesh, revelling in the sensation he was giving the young man he desired so much.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Thomas slid his tongue inside Jimmy, holding Jimmy's hips to stop him from shying away. Thomas needn't have worried; Jimmy was in ecstasy, and in no hurry to leave.

"Oh, God," said Jimmy, writhing at the feel of Thomas' tongue penetrating his entrance. _This is amazing! _

Thomas grinned at the response from Jimmy, pushing his tongue in deeper still and swirling it about. His cock was painfully hard; he wanted more than anything for it to be where his tongue was, but he knew he should be grateful that Jimmy had let him get so far in one evening. He removed his tongue, and left small kisses all the way up Jimmy's back to his neck, leaving the last one on his lips.

Jimmy opened his eyes, and looked at Thomas, who was removing his own trousers, allowing his erection to spring free. Expecting Thomas to lay on top of him, he shrank into the bed, bracing himself for what was to come. Thomas had other ideas, however.

"Turn onto your front now, I want to make love to you with my mouth. You'll enjoy it, I promise."

Jimmy obeyed immediately; he turned over and his arousal was obvious, even though he felt a bit shy about showing so much of himself to Thomas, so quickly.

Thomas eyed Jimmy hungrily. He kissed Jimmy's lips again, and straddled Jimmy on the bed. His lips made their way down Jimmy's chest once again; his hands massaging Jimmy's thighs. Once his lips reached Jimmy's groin, he lifted his head and broke contact with Jimmy's body. Jimmy moaned unappreciatively – he needed Thomas' mouth now. His discomfort was only slightly relieved when Thomas placed his lips on Jimmy's left thigh, running his tongue up towards Jimmy's hard cock, stopping at the crucial point. Thomas repeated the action with the right thigh, stopping again and causing Jimmy to cry out in frustration.

Jimmy laid back and closed his eyes; he could never have prepared himself for what was happening. Thomas opened his mouth and let his tongue tease the end of Jimmy's cock, flicking it so gently at first, then circling the slit as he brought his lips to a close around Jimmy's head. Jimmy thrust his hips forward with pleasure; causing Thomas to take more of Jimmy into his mouth involuntarily. Not that he minded...he was relishing every second of it Jimmy's experience.

Thomas put one hand at the bottom of Jimmy's shaft, mimicking the up and down movement his mouth was making on Jimmy's leaking cock. His tongue circling, licking, his mouth pressing hard on Jimmy's length, he moved his free hand down to masturbate himself, and gasped at the feel of his own touch.

Jimmy grabbed Thomas' head; he could feel himself about to climax and he didn't want it to be over so quickly. "Slow down, I don't think I can last much longer, please," he pleaded with the older man, opening his eyes and feeling faint at the sight of Thomas' mouth ravishing him so perfectly.

"It's all right, just let it happen. I'm not going to last much longer either," replied Thomas, taking Jimmy into his hand whilst he spoke. He placed his mouth back around Jimmy's cock and closed his lips, feeling Jimmy's thighs shaking with the intensity of the sucking. He felt Jimmy's cock throbbing; his groin tensing up. Jimmy's hand grasped at Thomas' hair as he felt his orgasm approaching. He arched his back and felt himself explode into Thomas, spilling everything he had onto Thomas' tongue and down his throat. He had never felt anything like it in his life. He opened his eyes and looked down at Thomas, who was experiencing his own delirium, his cock still in Thomas' mouth whilst he came.

Thomas collapsed onto Jimmy, his head resting on Jimmy's thigh. His breathing was coarse; he was dripping with sweat and juices from Jimmy's perfect cock. Jimmy grabbed Thomas' arms and pulled so that Thomas was level with him on the bed. He couldn't imagine a more perfect moment.

"You are beautiful," said Jimmy to Thomas, kissing him on the forehead, wrapping his arms around the other man. "And you are right – that did feel like love. Thank you."

"Thank you Jimmy, for trusting me. I didn't plan to do that, believe it or not. But I'm so very glad it happened." Thomas took Jimmy's hand, entwining their fingers together lovingly.

"Me too, Thomas. I love you." The lovers cuddled up together, stealing kisses, and pulled the covers over them to keep them from getting cold.

* * *

Thomas awoke in a flash – someone was knocking at the door. He looked at the clock. It was five to six in the morning.

The knocking was growing louder.

_SHIT! _

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading these two chapters as much as I enjoyed writing them! I only intended to do one, but I couldn't end the weekend without giving you some Thomas on Jimmy action. I haven't quite decided how many more chapters to write, but I will keep going to ensure Thomas and Jimmy get it on properly, so to speak!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: A mid-week treat for my lovely readers! Thank you all for reviewing, I know it sounds a bit 'cliche' but it does mean the world to me, and it influences the way I write the next chapter too. I've actually drafted out the ending to my story now, and there's probably between 5-10 chapters to go; I hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

Thomas looked at Jimmy in horror – there was someone knocking at the door and unless he and Jimmy disappeared in an instant, there was a chance that the person knocking might not wait to be permitted entry.

"What do we do now?!" whispered Jimmy, a look of fear in his eyes.

"Quick, onto the floor!" shrieked Thomas, trying to buy them some time. He grabbed hold of the sheet and Jimmy's naked body and pulled them both over the side of the bed, wincing as they fell to the ground with a small thud.

The door opened. "Thomas? Are you still in here?"

Thomas could have thanked the Lord there and then. Tom's face appeared around the slightly ajar door, scanning the room for any sign of his guests.

"Thank God it's you!" sighed Thomas, collapsing onto his back. "I thought we were going to give the housemaids a heart attack!"

"Well, count yourself lucky it's me this time – next time it could be one of the maids, or worse," Tom said with a small smile. He'd just had an image of the Dowager walking in on the pair, clutching her chest in horror at the scene she might have found. "Anyway – don't you go falling back to sleep," he continued, noticing Thomas close his eyes, still on his back; a cowering Jimmy beside him. "Carson'll be wondering where the Hell you two are, and the longer you take to get yourselves out of here, the greater the chance you'll run into someone on the way."

"Point taken," said Thomas, standing up, still holding the sheet around him.

Jimmy looked mortified. He had just realised whose room they were in, and it was bad enough that they had been in Tom's bed, let alone the fact that Tom had now seen him, _almost,_ naked. He stood up, allowing Thomas to conceal his modesty, and didn't waste any time putting on his clothes when Thomas handed them to him.

"It's all right, I'm not looking," said Tom, clearing away the candles. Still, he couldn't help smiling – he thought about what Thomas had told him about Jimmy's dream, and vivid images were flashing through his brain that really shouldn't have been.

Once dressed, Thomas and Jimmy hastily exited Tom's room and checked the corridors for signs of life. Miraculously, they managed to get back to their room before anyone noticed that their beds hadn't been slept in.

"Phew, that was close," said Thomas, changing into his clean under-butler's clothes for the day. "Next time we'll have to make sure we come back here earlier than 6 o'clock!"

Jimmy spun round as he took off his dirty shirt. "Next time?! You mean, we're going to go and use Mr Branson's bed again? No thank you. I'll admit I enjoyed myself, mind, but I don't want to use _his _bed again. I'd rather do it standing up!"

Jimmy blushed at the bluntness in his words. Thomas just raised an eyebrow. "So you _do _want to do it again then?" he said, his heart expanding in his chest.

"I think you know I do, Thomas," said Jimmy, his tone softening, as he turned towards Thomas, still shirtless. Thomas ran a finger from Jimmy's lips, past his neck, down his chest and all the way to the waistband of Jimmy's trousers. Jimmy shivered with excitement.

"Tonight?" asked Thomas, pulling Jimmy in towards him for a kiss.

"Tonight."

* * *

Downstairs in the kitchen, Jimmy ran into Ivy as she was preparing the stove for breakfast.

"Good Morning, Jimmy," she said, blushing and trying to look as coy as possible.

"Good Morning Ivy!" came Jimmy's reply, smiling at her. His smile faltered. _Oh, _he thought, a few seconds too late, _she probably still thinks I'm going to propose. How am I going to get out of that one? _

Ivy started talking again, "Jimmy? I was wondering if you wanted to come to the pictures with me on Friday night? It's my half day and I think it's yours too, if I remember rightly. What do you think?"

_Think, Jimmy, think._ "Er, I don't think I can, I think Carson has me on silver polishing duties!" said Jimmy, and speeded off in the other direction. _Pathetic, _he thought, making a mental note to ask Thomas for advice on how to let her down gently.

* * *

For reasons unknown to Thomas, the day had gone by quickly, without incident. There had been no house guests, and some of the family were in London visiting Lady Rosamund, so it had been quiet at dinner. Thomas had snuck a couple of lingering looks at Jimmy during dinner, but had been disappointed to see that the young footman was concentrating on serving the food.

Thomas never usually listened much at dinner; the conversation was never particularly interesting; financial affairs, politics and the like. However, tonight, a topic of conversation brought up by Tom caught Thomas' ears.

"One of my friends from Ireland is coming over next month, James Collier. He has a boy a couple of years older than Sybil; I thought I might meet up with him, if you can spare me from the farms for a couple of days."

Lord Grantham looked up from his dinner, vaguely interested. "Yes of course, Tom. How nice for you. Have you known him long?"

"Since we were 17. His wife died of the Spanish 'flu, and he's been by himself with little Paddy since then. I think he'd like to see a familiar face, and seeing as I can't go back to Dublin..." Tom trailed off, looking regretful for a second.

Thomas was pleased. He'd really grown to like and admire Tom, not just for helping him out with Jimmy, but for bringing Sybil up on his own, and working hard on the farms in the estate too. He'd somehow manage to transcend to the upper classes but still keep a firm grip on his roots; not many could say the same. He was curious to meet James, and hoped he would be a good companion for Tom now that Matthew was no longer there.

"You must be sure to invite him for dinner one evening," said Edith, smiling at Tom. _Hmmph, _thought Thomas, _Edith never misses a chance to meet a man with baggage!_ _I can sympathise with her though – there aren't many young good looking men around these days! Except for, of course..._ he looked over at Jimmy again; hoping to catch his eye, but the footman was lost in thought. _Must find out what's bothering him...I hope he's not having second thoughts..._

* * *

After dinner, Thomas caught Jimmy's arm in the corridor.

"Is everything all right, Jimmy? You looked very forlorn during dinner. I know the conversation was dull, but at least you had me to look at!" Thomas tried to raise a smile from Jimmy, but it was all in vain.

"It's Ivy."

_Phew, that's all? I was worried there for a minute!_

"And what of young Ivy? Has she been licking the cake mixture from the bowl? Rouging her face? Dancing in the pantry?" Thomas couldn't care less. He knew how Jimmy felt about her, and it wasn't anything to bother him with.

"Well, she's asked me to the pictures on Friday, and I'm worried she thinks I'm going to propose, or at least ask her to be my girl. How do I tell her it's never going to happen?" Jimmy said, wiping a drop of gravy from his sleeve.

"Tell her you're with me now, that we're going to get married instead...I'M JOKING!" Thomas felt the need to emphasise, on seeing Jimmy's stricken face. "Obviously don't tell her that! Just tell her you're too young, that you don't want to be tied down right now. She'll understand, and go chasing after someone else. Alfred, possibly. Though why anyone would want to chase after him..." Thomas trailed off, patting Jimmy on the back in an 'if-anyone-catches-us-it-just-looks-friendly' way, but Jimmy appreciated it all the same.

"Thanks, Thomas. I know what I need to say, but I just don't like to think I'd make her unhappy. She's a nice girl." Jimmy gave Thomas a watery smile.

"She's nice enough, but I prefer blondes," smiled Thomas, looking into Jimmy's eyes in a way which made Jimmy's legs feel like jelly. Jimmy couldn't wait to be dismissed for the night – all worries about letting Ivy down were gone. He raced through the rest of his tasks and was the first one back to their room.

Jimmy looked around the room nervously. He had enjoyed the previous night more than he ever thought he would; he'd never imagined that love with a man could be like that. He, like most before him, had been brought up by the Bible. Laying with another man was wrong; against nature, against God. But being with Thomas was wonderful; the man who had seemed charming, but bitter; professional, but over-familiar; was a distant memory now. He still felt guilt at having rejected Thomas for so long, and for allowing him to take a beating for him, but he felt lucky that Thomas had forgiven all those things.

_Maybe it's my turn to love Thomas tonight, _he thought, eagerly awaiting Thomas' arrival.

Luckily he didn't have to wait long; Thomas turned up within minutes, muttering something about Carson searching for a missing spoon and not letting him go to bed until it was found.

"Enough about Carson's spoons – it's bedtime, I'm here, you're here, we're alone, and the biggest decision we have is whose bed we're going to sleep in tonight," said Jimmy, already in his pyjamas, not wanting to assume anything untoward was going to happen. Jimmy decided to get into Thomas' bed, not waiting for the older man to make a decision.

Thomas liked this new Jimmy – a Jimmy unafraid of his feelings; whose confidence was growing by the day. He looked over at his blonde lover on the bed, who was sporting what could only be described as a 'goofy' grin, and smiled. "I don't think I've ever smiled as much as I have in these past few days," he said, getting into his bed where Jimmy lay already. "The others are starting to wonder if I've discovered a gold mine or summat, the way I keep being nice to everyone. You'd think they preferred me miserable, the way they carry on!"

"Well I like it when you smile. 'Specially 'cos I know it's me that's made it happen," replied Jimmy, putting his head on Thomas' chest and his arm around Thomas' waist.

"Is that right? Maybe I'm just enjoying the weather!" teased Thomas, ruffling Jimmy's blonde locks.

"Or maybe you've just got wind," teased back Jimmy, raising his head from Thomas' chest and looking him straight in the eyes, their faces inches apart.

"Oi! I'll get you for that!" said Thomas, digging his fingers into Jimmy's chest and tickling him like a child.

"No! Stop it!" Giggled Jimmy, writhing all over the bed. "Get off me you idiot!" Thomas couldn't help laughing at Jimmy being reduced to a giggling school girl, as he desperately tried to free himself from Thomas' clutches.

Just then they heard loud footsteps coming up the corridor.

"Quick, get in your own bed!" hissed Thomas, stopping the attack on Jimmy and pushing him onto the floor. Jimmy gathered himself and stood up, just as a red-faced Carson opened the door.

"What in Heaven's name is going on in here?! It sounds like a hoard of cats being strangled! Explain yourselves!" Carson looked from Thomas to Jimmy, impatiently tapping his foot.

"Nothing, Mr Carson," said Jimmy, getting into his own bed and pulling the sheet over him.

"Well?!" said Carson, looking at Thomas for an explanation.

"Er, I had something stuck in my throat, Mr Carson. I was coughing and Jimmy, I mean James, here was patting me on the back to ease the blockage. I'm sure that's what you heard." Thomas had flushed bright red; _what a load of rubbish,_ he thought, waiting for Carson to challenge the story.

"So what was it?" said Carson, not satisfied with the answer.

"What was what, Mr Carson?" asked Thomas, returning to his normal pale shade.

"What was stuck in your throat?"

"Er, toothpaste, Mr Carson. I had toothpaste stuck in my throat!" Thomas congratulated himself for thinking of something so quickly.

"Toothpaste? In the bedroom? Oh, I can't be bothered with you tonight, Mr Barrow. See to it that you get some sleep, or at least let the rest of us get some sleep! If I have to come here again, you'll both be forfeiting your half days this month!" And with that, Carson spun on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, and they both burst out laughing, albeit much more quietly than before.

"Toothpaste?!" laughed Jimmy, holding his stomach which was starting to hurt.

"Shut it, you! I noticed that you didn't have any better ideas!" said Thomas, but he was smiling.

"Well, it was your fault for tickling me!"

"I only tickled you 'cos you were cheeky!"

"Hey, you know something? It's probably a good thing that Carson knows about what happened before, you know, when you came to see me in the night last year," said Jimmy, quietly.

"Please don't remind me of that," said Thomas, closing his eyes.

"Well, I mean, there's no way he'd suspect the truth now – he thinks I'd go running to the police if you tried anything again. At least that means he's not suspecting us of anything...ungodly!" Jimmy couldn't think of a better word for it.

"I suppose you're right," concluded Thomas. "Back to tonight – how about we stick a chair under the door handle so as to not receive any more 'unwelcome' guests?" Thomas didn't wait for a reply; he'd already got out of bed and carried the chair over to the door. He didn't want to think about sleeping apart from Jimmy, and this seemed like the best way to keep anyone out. Or at least buy them a few more seconds to get back into their own beds, should the need arise.

"Good idea," said Jimmy, moving over to allow Thomas to get into his bed beside him.

The two men cuddled up together in bed, tired, but happy.

"I meant what I said before, you know," said Thomas, planting a kiss on Jimmy's forehead. "I really am happy; I never thought I would get to feel like this, not least with you."

Jimmy placed his hand on Thomas' chest and began to stroke it. "I'm happy too. I don't know how this...relationship...is going to pan out, but I know that at the moment, a few stolen moments here and there, and most nights... is enough for me. Thank you for being patient with me...about the other stuff." He blushed, although it was dark and Thomas probably wouldn't have been able to tell.

"That's quite all right, Jimmy. I remember what it feels like to be unsure, and scared. I don't think on it at all. In fact, it's quite exciting to take it slowly. I feel like a proper gentleman, for once!" Thomas didn't think he'd ever felt like a 'proper gentleman', so to speak.

"Well how about I touch you and let you know how you feel?" said Jimmy, a mischievous tone in his voice.

A grin spread across Thomas' face. He put his hands on Jimmy's face and turned it towards his own. "Are you being cheeky to your superior again, Mr Kent?"

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it, Mr Barrow!"

"Well I'll let you off if you kiss me, right now."

Jimmy pressed his lips against Thomas'; their faces amalgamating into one. Thomas allowed his lips to part; he could feel Jimmy's tongue itching to intrude into his mouth. Their tongues touched; and their hearts melted.

Thomas slid his hands inside Jimmy's nightshirt, and caressed the smooth skin of Jimmy's back. Jimmy undid his nightshirt and Thomas', to allow their bodies to press together undivided.

All too soon Thomas could feel the familiar sensation of arousal building in his groin; it was impossible to avoid it, being in such close proximity of his young lover's impeccably-formed body. Jimmy, sensing Thomas' erection, knew exactly what he wanted to do, but found himself nervous all of a sudden. He broke away from Thomas' embrace and paused for a few seconds.

"Are you all right?" asked Thomas, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just...I want to do something for you tonight, to say thank you for what you did for me last night. I just...don't know what I'm doing!" Jimmy's inexperience was goading him.

"Please don't feel like you have to do anything yet...I'm more than happy to please you again. I get a lot out of it, you know!" said Thomas, reaching down to touch Jimmy's erection with his own hand.

Jimmy moaned softly at being touched. He pulled down his pyjama bottoms to let his hard cock spring free, and Thomas made a play for it, rubbing it gently up and down, circling the head with his thumb. Jimmy lay on his back and allowed Thomas to masturbate him, revelling in the feel of his lover's palm. Feeling a little bold, he reached down to grab Thomas' cock through his pyjamas, and his arousal heightened when Thomas let out a groan of appreciation.

Thomas released his grip on Jimmy's cock, although only to remove his own pyjama bottoms. He went to reach for Jimmy again but the young boy swatted his hand away; HE wanted to do the pleasuring tonight. He placed his hand on Thomas' cock, smiling as Thomas laid back and began to moan softly. Thomas was enjoying every second of this; it was what he had dreamed of for months. Jimmy's hand felt like satin; smooth and fluid in its movement, every upward stroke feeling like ecstasy; every downward, like delirium.

Jimmy was enjoying himself immensely. He loved that he was pleasing Thomas, _his_ Thomas, and felt confident in his abilities. He wanted to go further, explore other loving acts, but there was plenty of time for that. For now, he had Thomas in the palm of his hand, literally as well as metaphorically, and he didn't want to stop. He placed his left hand on his own erection, and shuddered at how close he was to finishing.

Thomas felt his orgasm building slowly; Jimmy was keeping a steady rhythm on his cock and although he couldn't see well in the dark, he knew that Jimmy was pleasuring himself too, which he would've loved to have watched. _Next time_, he thought.

As Jimmy neared orgasm, he sped up his movement on Thomas' cock, hoping to make him come at the same time. As it was, Thomas arched his back and squirted all over Jimmy's hand first, grabbing a pillow to stifle a cry of intense pleasure, before Jimmy let himself come over Thomas' chest and stomach.

The two men lay there, sticky and panting, for a minute or two, when out of the darkness Jimmy piped up:

"I'd say you definitely felt like a gentleman to me!"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading :o) I will post the next chapter by the end of the week! And don't worry, the slash will get a bit kinkier ;o)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Another chapter for my lovely readers! As I can't reply to guest reviews, I just want to say thanks to 'Gay Guy', 'Another Guest', 'Anon Sex Addict' and 'Davis J', as well as all the anonymous guests, for their lovely positive reviews :o) **

**No slash in this chapter, I'm afraid, but I promise some action before the end of the weekend!**

* * *

Tom was unusually nervous. James was due to arrive in Thirsk next week, and Tom hadn't seen him for nearly twelve years.

_I wonder what he'll look like? Will he look the same, or will he look a lot older? Will he think _I _look older? _Thought Tom, as he sat alone in the library, leafing through a book on politics. He hadn't really wanted to read, he wanted to think; the library had seemed like the best place to be on his own.

The last time he had seen James they had had a blazing row. James had foolishly confessed his love for Tom to his younger sister, and she had told their father, who had beaten James black and blue. A sorry looking James had turned up on Tom's doorstep, telling him that they weren't to see each other again; that he had found a girl to marry and make a life with. Tom was angry and hurt; he knew how difficult keeping the relationship had been, but he never thought that they would have to end it like this, so suddenly.

Tom had resolved to go to England, leaving Ireland and all its bad memories behind. He had always intended to write to James, but he could never find the words, and he guessed that James had moved on with his life. Through family he knew that James' wife had given birth to a boy, Patrick, and a few years later a girl, who sadly died not long after she was born. James had been heartbroken. Tom couldn't imagine how he would feel to lose little Sybil; but he supposed no more or less painful than losing his wonderful wife so cruelly.

James was to stay at the pub; Robert had offered a room at Downton but Tom wanted to see James away from the house. The last thing he needed was anyone to find out about his past. _They'd probably be more shocked at the thought of me having a male lover than if I burned down the entire village, _he thought wryly.

Tom snapped his book shut and placed it back on the shelf carelessly. He knew that seeing James would be both wonderful and heartbreaking, and that only time would tell if there was anything still between them that could be reignited. Tom would never forget Sybil; but he didn't want to be with another woman. In a strange way he felt like Sybil was the first and last woman he would ever make love to; that only allowing himself to touch another man was cherishing her memory somehow.

* * *

Jimmy couldn't put it off any longer; he HAD to talk to Ivy today. Thomas had ushered him towards her at every opportunity, but Jimmy had somehow managed to avoid conversation each time. He waited until the two of them were alone in the kitchen, and cleared his throat.

"Ivy?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yes, Jimmy?" said Ivy, looking up from her sewing and giving Jimmy a smile.

_Damn, why does she always look like she's expecting a proposal?_ Jimmy thought to himself, fidgeting awkwardly with his jacket buttons.

"You remember saying something about going to the pictures? Well, the thing is -"

"Oh yes, that would be lovely!" Ivy interrupted. "I can't wait! I've made myself a new dress to wear too, and Daisy's letting me borrow her new hair clip, and -"

"No! I mean, sorry, Ivy, but I can't go with you." Jimmy looked down at the floor, wishing he could disappear into it.

"Oh!" said Ivy, looking a little disappointed. "That's quite all right, I suppose we can go another time, I'm sure there'll be other -"

"Look, I'm sorry Ivy, but I don't want to go with you. Not this week, not any week. I can't." Jimmy didn't want to make excuses. He just wanted Ivy to understand and let him leave.

Now Ivy was looking down too. Jimmy saw a tear roll down her cheek and felt guilty. "Look, you're a really nice lass. Any man would be glad to call you his girl!" he said, trying to cheer her up.

"Except you, that is. I thought you liked me! Oh, I feel like such a fool."

"Why don't you ask Alfred if he wants to go with you?" he added, hopefully.

Ivy didn't reply. She sniffed and stood up, meaning to go up to her room, or find Daisy. She needed a friendly shoulder to cry on, so Jimmy let her go.

_Phew, at least that's over and done with,_ he thought. _But why does she have to make me feel so bloody guilty? I never promised her anything!_ Jimmy's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of O'Brien. She sat down at the table and lit up a cigarette, pretending to look uninterested. A minute passed, when she said:

"What was all that about, Jimmy? Ivy looked like she was crying – you haven't upset her now have you?"

"It's not any of your business, keep your nose out!" said Jimmy, raising his voice a little.

"All right, calm down! I was only asking. I'm surprised though. I thought you were a proper little ladies' man! Alfred will be pleased; he's had his eye on her for ages. "

"Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?" said Jimmy, his eyes flashing.

"It's a free country; it's not my fault you chose such a public place to break her heart. Why exactly are you breaking her heart, Jimmy?" O'Brien said with suspicion.

"I just said, it's none of your bloody business, all right!" Jimmy snapped.

"What's going on here?" Thomas had entered the kitchen, looking from Jimmy to O'Brien, trying to work out why Jimmy had raised his voice so suddenly.

"Jimmy here has just told Ivy he doesn't want to associate with her again. Bit strange that, in't it?" explained O'Brien, studying Thomas' reaction closely.

"Leave the poor boy alone. And I'm sure Ivy won't appreciate you gossiping about her either," replied Thomas, trying not to looked pleased that Jimmy had finally set things straight with Ivy.

"Me, gossip? I don't have time to gossip. I was just enquiring as I know that my Alfred has a soft spot for Ivy, and it sounds like he's in with a chance!" O'Brien finished her cigarette and stood up from the table. "I must be off. Her ladyship won't dress herself."

Thomas sat down next to Jimmy as O'Brien walked off. "Ignore her. She's just digging around for titbits of information she can use against you. All that nonsense about Alfred was just an excuse. The last thing she wants is Alfred falling in love and forgetting about his career."

"I don't trust her though; wasn't she the one who told you that I was interested in you that time?" asked Jimmy.

"Well, she wasn't exactly wrong, was she?" smiled Thomas, looking round to see if anyone was in earshot.

"No, but she didn't know that!" whispered Jimmy, also smiling. The two men gazed at each other lovingly before coming to their senses and starting a conversation about cricket. It wouldn't do for someone to see the two of them making eyes at each other in the kitchen.

O'Brien smiled gleefully as she walked away from the hidden spot she had tucked herself into by the kitchen door. The conversation she had just 'accidentally' overheard would prove to be _very _valuable indeed.

* * *

Thomas was missing Jimmy painfully. Lord Grantham had been required to go to London for a couple of days and Bates had been taken ill, so Thomas had been asked to accompany him on his trip. Naturally, he obliged willingly, but the look on Jimmy's face when he had told him the news was eating him up. Jimmy, after his initial guilt, had been elated at getting Ivy off his back and was ready to move their relationship up a notch so this trip was a real spanner in the works.

The trip itself was pleasant – he enjoyed Lord Grantham's company on the journey there and he had been given a few hours to explore London in his leisure whilst the Lord was at a business meeting. He had walked round the whole of Hyde Park and smoked half a pack of cigarettes when he decided to take a look in the shops. He didn't have a lot of money on him but there was nothing wrong with having a browse, he thought to himself.

Stepping into a shop selling gentlemens clothing, he drew his eyes over some expensive materials and his eyes watered at the price tags. _More than two years' wages, this shirt is!_ He thought, moving towards the back of the shop. Hidden at the back was more reasonably priced clothing, undergarments, and nightwear. He ran his good hand over a beautiful silk dressing gown, marvelling at the lightness, yet good quality, of the material.

"Would you like to try it on, sir?" inquired the shopkeeper, an elderly man who was dressed in a quality of clothing much less than the stock he sold.

"Oh!" said a startled Thomas, blinking at the man. "No, it's all right, I was just browsing. I don't think I could afford anything you have in here!"

"Neither could I," said the man wistfully. "But I still like to try things on occasionally," he added with a wink.

Slightly bemused, Thomas carefully selected the beautiful blue silk dressing gown and wrapped around himself, tying it loosely so as not to crease his clothes.

"Smashing!" said the shopkeeper, admiring the garment. "Are you sure you don't want to buy it?"

Thomas began to remove the lovely gown. "Sorry, sir, I really don't think I could afford it. I probably couldn't even afford the cord to tie round it!" Thomas said, as he gestured towards the dressing gown cord in his hands.

_Dressing gown cord, hmm. Why does that ring a bell?_

_Of course! Jimmy's dream!_ Thomas remembered Jimmy's mortified expression when describing how Thomas had been tied to the bed. He remembered trying to keep a straight face in case Jimmy had been able to see the delight in Thomas' eyes at such a prospect.

Thomas thanked the shopkeeper and exited the shop. He'd had an idea. Now that Jimmy had begun to explore the physical nature of their relationship, maybe he wouldn't be opposed to having a little fun. Knowing that he couldn't exactly buy two dressing gown cords, he headed to the nearest market.

Once there, Thomas quickly found what he was looking for. Feeling a little flustered, but excited, Thomas paid for the items and thanked the market stall holder. He looked at his watch and realised that Lord Grantham would probably be nearing the end of his meeting, so he'd better go to meet him. His shopping was complete, for now.

* * *

"Did you have a good day, Barrow?" inquired Lord Grantham at dinner. He'd looked rather pleased after his meeting; it must have gone well, Thomas thought to himself. It still felt strange to hear Lord Grantham refer to him as 'Barrow', when he'd been Thomas for so long. Still, it had been over a year; he should be used to it by now. Plus it was a sign he was moving up in the rankings, and for that Thomas was extremely grateful.

"Yes, thank you, m'lord. Went for a stroll around Hyde Park – the flowers are looking spectacular at the moment, if I do say so." Thomas declined to mention his shopping trip. _Lord G might think he's paying me too much if he thinks I can afford to shop in London,_ he mused.

"Indeed they are," replied Lord Grantham, picking up the paper.

"How did your meeting go, if you don't mind my asking, m'lord?" Thomas thought he might as well make conversation, even if he wasn't particularly interested.

"Very well, thank you Barrow. In fact, we can leave in the morning. I shan't need another day here, and I'm sure you're itching to get back to Downton. It must be quite lonely being here on your own."

Thomas' heart leapt at the thought of seeing Jimmy tomorrow instead of in two days time; however, he restrained his emotions and simply replied, "Not at all, m'lord. I don't mind my own company. I'm sure no-one will be missing me too much." Thomas could've kicked himself; self pity wasn't an attractive quality for an under-butler.

"Oh, I don't know! I bet Carson is going mad without his second in command! And if you don't mind me saying so, Barrow..." Lord Grantham paused for a second, choosing his words carefully, "...you do appear to have turned over a new leaf these past few weeks. I won't lie; there were times when I didn't quite know how to take you. But this promotion has had a positive effect on your behaviour toward the other staff, and I'm glad. I know things haven't always been easy for you, and whilst I don't pretend to understand, or intrude where I have no right to, I feel I should let you know that you truly are an asset to Downton, and my family, and I'm glad we didn't force you to leave."

"I will always be grateful for that, m'lord," said Thomas, graciously. He didn't say anything else; his eyes were prickling and he was afraid he might start to cry. He had rarely been shown this much kindness; his positive attitude had been noticed and he had Jimmy to thank for it.

After dinner, Lord Grantham retired early for the night, citing the early morning train journey as a good enough reason. Thomas was glad; it gave him more time to think about Jimmy and the plans he had in store for his return tomorrow. He sat on the bed and reached for his jacket which was hanging over the back of a solitary chair. He reached inside and smiled as he pulled out the package he had purchased at the market earlier. Opening it up, he extracted two neck ties, one blue, one brown, both plain. Putting them back in his jacket pocket, he grinned to himself. If anyone found them, they wouldn't think it strange for a man to be carrying a couple of ties. But then again, they wouldn't know that it wasn't his _neck_ he was planning on fastening them around...


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: As promised, Chapter 16 is here. Warning for M/M slash (although maybe I should warn when there ****_isn't_** **any slash, you all seem to like it!). I hope I've done it justice! **

* * *

Jimmy was miserable. It had only been twenty-six hours (not that he was counting) since he had last seen Thomas, and he missed him so much already. It felt strange to sleep alone in his bed last night. To be more accurate, it had felt strange to sleep alone in _Thomas' _bed last night. He wanted to feel as close to his new lover as he could, and the bed smelt of Thomas – faint cigarettes and pomade, scents that he hadn't cared for until recently.

He sat at the kitchen table, his head propped up on one hand, picking his way through a piece of dry toast. Alfred noticed his demeanour and asked:

"What's the matter with your face today? You look like Christmas has been cancelled! Cheer up!"

Jimmy frowned at Alfred; he couldn't be bothered with him today. Alfred was feeling very pleased with himself; Ivy had gone to the pictures with him after all, and he was acting like the cat who'd gotten the cream.

O'Brien spoke, looking at Jimmy out of the corner of her eye. "Her ladyship told me that Lord Grantham is coming back today after all, his business meeting went better than expected," she said, pretending to talk to no-one in particular, but cunningly gauging Jimmy's reaction. His face betrayed him; his head shot up and his eyes lit up, falling into O'Brien's trap. "You look rather pleased, Jimmy. Have you missed Lord Grantham or something?" she chuckled to herself, as everyone looked at him curiously.

Jimmy was lost for words; he couldn't think of a good response so simply stated:

"It just means that I won't have to do all of Thomas' work for another day, that's all." _Rubbish, _he thought. He looked around the table and was relieved to see that everyone had gone back to their breakfast, accepting his answer. Well, _almost_ everyone.

"Well, let's just hope _Thomas_ gets back quickly then. We wouldn't want you to feel over-burdened." O'Brien emphasised Thomas' name to impress upon Jimmy that she had noticed his over-familiarity with the under-butler. She raised her eyebrow questioningly.

_Shit, _thought Jimmy, _should've called him Barrow. Nosy cow, who does she think she is?!_

Jimmy looked away from O'Brien's gaze, and tried to act unaffected. O'Brien was no fool, however. She might not have the looks but she most definitely had the cunning; something was going on between the under-butler and the footman and she was going to find out if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

As the majestic outline of Downton Abbey loomed into view, Thomas felt a bubble of excitement building in his stomach. He had been very restless on the journey, and couldn't wait to get back, even though there'd be work to do before he could get his hands on Jimmy. He hoped that Jimmy was feeling them same way; he didn't know if Jimmy had been informed and it would be a lovely surprise.

As they pulled up to the house, Carson and, to Thomas' delight, Jimmy, were waiting for them at the entrance. Thomas heart skipped at seeing his young lover looking so smart and eager.

"I trust your journey was agreeable m'lord?" said Carson, always the pinnacle of formality.

"Yes, thank you Carson, it was. Barrow here was a real asset in Bates' absence, too," Lord Grantham, stepping out of the car.

Carson raised an eyebrow, always a little cynical when it came to Thomas. "Good to hear it, m'lord. Bates is up and about again now, so he will be dressing you tonight."

"Thank you, Carson. And thank you, Barrow," Lord Grantham nodded to Thomas, who was helping Jimmy with Lord Grantham's luggage, and his own. He reached up to grab one of the cases, brushing his hand accidentally against Jimmy's, who was reaching for the same one. The spark of electricity between them was terrifyingly obvious; luckily Carson and Lord Grantham were walking towards the house and no-one saw when Thomas let his fingers linger on Jimmy's own for just a second too long. They exchanged coy glances; something told them both that tonight was going to be one heck of a welcome home.

* * *

After the servants' dinner, O'Brien went outside for a smoke. It had been a long couple of days; Lady Grantham was always slightly more demanding when her husband was away, and of course it was she who bore the brunt of it. Lighting her cigarette and taking a deep drag, her thoughts moved to Jimmy.

_He did seem rather pleased that Lord Grantham was coming back today, _she thought, exhaling the smoke into the night air. _I doubt it had anything to do with his lordship, and more to do with a certain under-butler returning with him. What did he say to Thomas the other night? Something about me not being wrong about him liking Thomas? I never had Jimmy down to be one of that sort, even though Thomas is, as we know. This could work out very well indeed. I'll wipe the smile of both of their faces, the disgusting faggots._

Just then, O'Brien heard the back door open. She was only half way through her cigarette and was in no rush to finish it, so she slid quietly into the shadows, wondering whose conversation she might get to eavesdrop this time. To her delight, she heard the familiar voice of Jimmy, his unmistakable Yorkshire tone cutting through the silence outside.

"I'm so glad you're back this evening, Thomas! I've missed you so much," he said, looking at the older man shyly, who was busy lighting up.

"I missed you too, silly. I could barely contain my excitement when Lord G told me we'd be coming back today. It was a good trip, mind. I'll show you why later." Thomas took a drag from his cigarette and eyed Jimmy cheekily.

"Oh aye? Now I'm intrigued. Hurry up and finish that and let's get upstairs. It's bloody cold out here." Jimmy rubbed his hands together to warm them up.

"I bet I can think of a few ways to warm up your hands," said Thomas, suggestively.

"Stop it Thomas, you're putting ideas in my head, and I don't think it'd be a good idea to get carried away out here, do you?" Jimmy said reluctantly.

Thomas agreed silently. He knew it would be foolish to touch Jimmy in any way out here, no matter how much he wanted to. He remembered how Jimmy had spotted himself and Tom together and shuddered at the thought that someone else might have seen them.

Jimmy looked at Thomas thoughtfully, tipping his head to one side. "Do you know, I think I'm rather jealous of your cigarette."

"And why's that, may I ask?" Thomas inquired, amused.

"Well, it spends all day in your jacket pocket, close to your heart, then it gets to spend its final minutes in your mouth, with you sucking on it. It's not a bad way to go!" Jimmy said, with a sigh.

Thomas laughed. "My, you are a funny one Jimmy. You do have a wonderful imagination. What about when it's finished, and I drop it to the floor and stamp on it with my foot. Not quite what you're probably hoping for after I've had my wicked way with you, I'd wager."

"No!" said Jimmy, shocked. "I hadn't thought about that bit. Maybe I wouldn't like to be your cigarette after all."

Thomas shook his head, still smiling. He took one last puff and threw the butt to the ground, stamping on it with great vigour, laughing at Jimmy's expression of sympathy for the lifeless filter that had not a minute ago been lovingly perched between Thomas' lips.

"Poor thing," said Jimmy, shaking his head. Thomas was bemused by Jimmy's reaction, and after scanning the area for any signs of life, leaned down to give him a quick kiss. That seemed to cheer Jimmy up, and the two of them raced back into the house, the sad tale of the cigarette forgotten.

O'Brien stepped out from the shadows. The corners of her mouth started to turn up until she was smiling, almost laughing, delirious at the stolen moment she had just bore witness to.

_So, Thomas is going to have his wicked way with young Jimmy, is he? We'll see about that..._

* * *

Thomas and Jimmy barely made it back to their room before tearing each others' clothes off and exploring each others' mouths with their tongues. A collision of lust, they groped at each other with both affection and need as they crashed onto Jimmy's bed in the low light.

"Wait! We need to put the chair up against the door – we can't risk it," said Thomas, getting up from the bed, reluctantly. He moved slowly over to the chair and picked it up carefully, wedging it under the door handle, testing the handle from the inside.

"Hurry up! Or I might have to start on my own!" said Jimmy, turning onto his back.

"Well, that I'd like to see – maybe I should take my time in that case!" said Thomas, turning to face Jimmy, who was lying on the bed, masturbating slowly. Thomas felt his knees buckle slightly. He stood there for a few seconds, watching his young lover pleasure himself, and was torn between watching and joining in.

"Oh, sod it. You've spent the last two days doing my duties for me in the house – I think it's time to start doing my own work," he said, amused at the reference to their working relationship spilling into the bedroom. He got back onto the bed and took Jimmy's cock from his hand, pumping rhythmically while Jimmy's breathing quickened. Thomas delighted in pleasing Jimmy – he couldn't imagine any place he'd rather be right now. He moved his face towards Jimmy's and placed a kiss on Jimmy's forehead, trailing his lips down Jimmy's cheek and settling them on Jimmy's mouth. Jimmy thrust his tongue into Thomas' mouth in hunger, which sent shivers down Thomas' spine. He loved Jimmy's eagerness to kiss and be kissed; not all of the men Thomas had experienced had been bothered about kissing as such, preferring to get to other business. They had probably felt that kissing was more about feelings, and less about physical relief; and some of these men had yet to admit to themselves that their preferences were unorthodox.

Jimmy came quickly; he couldn't help but gravitate towards a quick climax when Thomas was touching his cock with such experience and passion. He squirted all over Thomas' hand and his own stomach, his back arched and his legs stiffened. Thomas deftly ran his tongue down towards Jimmy's stomach and licked him clean; he loved the taste of Jimmy and sensed the night was far from over yet.

Once recovered, Jimmy knew exactly what he wanted to do next. He sat up and kissed Thomas passionately, whilst using his hand to push Thomas onto his back. He started to trail kisses down Thomas' chest, slowly moving his tongue lower until he reached Thomas' groin. Thomas let out a whimper; he had dreamed of this moment for so long, never realising he might actually experience it one day. Then he remembered something.

"Jimmy! Hold on a second – I want to show you what I bought in London," he said, as difficult as it was to interrupt what was going to be such sweet pleasure.

Jimmy didn't have time to argue - Thomas was rifling through his jacket pocket and brought out a package. "Now, don't be scared, I don't mean to use these on you." _Yet, _he thought, although the image was enticing. "But...maybe you can use them on me tonight?"

Thomas held out the two ties. Jimmy's eyes widened; he thought back to his dream and knew immediately what Thomas was asking. "But why did you buy two ties? Don't you have enough already?"

"Yes, I have a few, but these are our special ones, and it won't matter if we get them...dirty," finished Thomas, a glint of naughtiness in his eyes.

Jimmy didn't say another word. He took the ties from Thomas and pushed him back onto the bed. He took the blue tie and looped it around the bed railings. Thomas rested his hand by the tie for Jimmy to fasten, but Jimmy shook his head. "Don't make this easy for me, or there's no point. I want to have my wicked way with you, Thomas Barrow."

Thomas was delighted. He was unsure how Jimmy was going to react to the ties, but he seemed to be taking it in his stride better than Thomas could have hoped. He put his arm by his waist again and closed his eyes. Jimmy grabbed Thomas' arm roughly, and forced it upwards towards the loop he had created with the blue tie. He shoved Thomas' hand through the loop, and fastened the tie tightly, causing it to dig in to Thomas' wrist. Jimmy pondered whether to loosen the restraint, but instead settled for kissing Thomas' hand, to show that although he was unable to escape, he was still loved.

Jimmy took the brown tie and repeated the restraining with Thomas' other hand, his bad hand. Jimmy deliberately took a little more care with this one, kissing it whilst fastening a knot around Thomas' wrist. Once finished, he sat back to appreciate the sight before him: Thomas, naked and panting, tied to the bed by his wrists, his erection straining against his toned stomach. Jimmy licked his lips hungrily, watching the torment in Thomas' face at having to wait just a few seconds longer.

Jimmy bowed his head and kissed the head of Thomas' cock, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer. Thomas' reaction was immense – his groin bucked upwards and his wrists pulled against their respective ties. Jimmy smiled at the response, and used his tongue to lick the trail of liquid that was seeping between Thomas' slit and his groin. Thomas was in Heaven; all he could do was watch as Jimmy's lips opened and placed themselves on either side of his throbbing shaft. All he wanted to do was run his fingers through Jimmy's hair and fuck Jimmy's mouth, but he was Jimmy's prisoner; his wrists were chafing against the ties so painfully, increasing the sensation on his cock tenfold.

Jimmy had Thomas in his mouth now; putting pressure on Thomas' cock with his lips and circling the tip with his tongue. Thomas tasted divine; much better than Jimmy had expected. He held the base of Thomas' cock with his hand and tried to pump it in time with his mouth, not wanting any part of Thomas' cock to be left untouched, and trying to emulate what Thomas did to him when they were in Tom's bedroom. Thomas cried out; seeing Jimmy fellating him so perfectly and not being able to touch him whilst he did so was agony. He pulled against the railings and tried to free his hands. However, the knots pulled tighter; Jimmy had been a keen boy scout before the war, and had learnt how to tie rope with expertise.

Thomas could feel himself nearing orgasm when suddenly he heard a noise outside their room. His eyes widened in panic as Jimmy heard it too and they both looked at the door, willing whoever was there to walk past. They saw a light at the bottom of the door – whoever was standing outside was not moving. The door handle turned slowly, but hit the back of the chair propped up against it. The intruder pushed the door from the outside, but it didn't budge; the unturned handle keeping the door from flying open freely.

Jimmy, fearing it might be Carson and thinking quickly, untied Thomas from the bed railings and pulled on his pyjamas, throwing Thomas' pyjamas at him. Thomas didn't have time to rub his sore wrists; he too pulled on his pyjamas and headed towards the door. Carson wouldn't be happy if he thought the door had been blocked on purpose, so he removed the chair as silently as he could and opened the door slowly. Pretending to yawn, he was shocked to see O'Brien standing there, bold as brass, holding a light and peering in.

"What the Hell are you doing, sneaking around at night, breaking into peoples' rooms!" said Thomas in hushed tones. He didn't want Carson to wake up; although O'Brien hadn't seen anything, he didn't want to give him cause for suspicion, especially after the 'toothpaste' incident.

"I just thought I heard a noise, that's all. I was passing on my way back from the kitchen and wondered what was going on. Thought there was a break in or summat. Pardon me for being concerned." O'Brien turned on her heel, disappointed not to catch anything untoward.

Thomas couldn't believe her cheek. _There's no way that our room is on the way back from the kitchen. She knows something, for sure._

He closed the door, and waited until he heard the door at the end of the corridor click shut. Everything was silent. He turned to face where Jimmy was sitting up in bed.

"What was all that about?" Jimmy asked, his face stricken with confusion.

"No idea," replied Thomas, replacing the chair under the door. "She reckoned she heard a burglar in our room. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have heard us – we were as quiet as anything! No – she suspects something, I'm sure of it. Has she said anything to you?"

Jimmy remembered guiltily about how O'Brien had caught him looking more than pleased about Thomas' early return trip from London. "No, nothing," he lied, not wanting to worry Thomas. "Come on, she won't be back now. Get back into bed with me."

Thomas reluctantly agreed. As much as he wanted to lay with Jimmy, he was concerned about being caught out by O'Brien. He knew she wouldn't hesitate to tell Carson and Mrs Hughes, and there would be a lot less sympathy now that something was actually happening under their roof. He had duly lost his arousal now, so he cuddled up to Jimmy and the two of them closed their eyes for the night.

* * *

In the morning, Jimmy awoke first – he checked his watch. 5 o'clock. He looked at Thomas who was still asleep; his face pressed into the pillow clumsily.

_I wonder if he would mind being woken a little early today? _Jimmy thought, mischievously. _After all, I hadn't finished with him last night when we were so rudely interrupted. _

Jimmy put his hand on Thomas' shoulder and shook him gently.

"Thomas? Are you awake?" he said, whispering gently into his ear.

"I am now," said Thomas, groggily. "Is it that time already? I was having a lovely dream about us swimming together in the river, and I'd quite like to see how it ended."

"No, it's only 5 in the morning. But I was wondering if you wanted me to finish what I started last night?" asked Jimmy, suggestively.

Thomas opened his eyes and smiled. "Hmm, now I really am awake, but I have a better idea." He pushed Jimmy onto the bed and placed a knee either side of Jimmy's hips, straddling him. As he leaned down to place a kiss on Jimmy's lips, Jimmy eyed how Thomas' morning erection was rubbing against his own, and wondered what Thomas had in mind.

Taking Jimmy's head in his hand, Thomas kissed Jimmy passionately, not caring if either one of them wasn't tasting fresh; there was no time for dental hygiene when they had such little time for love. Jimmy wrapped his arms around Thomas' strong body; although he was pinned against the bed, instead of feeling trapped, he felt safe with the older man.

Thomas slid his hips forward, allowing Jimmy's stiffened cock to spring up behind him, slotting between his buttocks like there was nowhere else it would rather be. Jimmy's eyes widened; he knew now what Thomas was planning, and he would be lying if he didn't say he was anxious.

"It's all right, Jimmy, if you want me to stop at any time, I will, trust me." Thomas sensed the fear in the Jimmy's eyes, and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead.

"I trust you," was Jimmy's reply, and he meant it. Thomas began to gyrate his hips gently, allowing Jimmy's cock to rub against his entrance. Thomas knew he had to be patient, but it would heighten the moment to wait for as long as he could. Jimmy moaned softly; his cock was being stimulated by Thomas' behind, and it was starting to leak. Thomas lifted his hips and allowed the slippery head of Jimmy's cock to press against his entrance, pushing slowly until just the tip was penetrating him.

Jimmy gasped; Thomas' entrance was tight but warm. Thomas closed his eyes and rotated his hips, trying to relax as he slid further onto Jimmy's shaft. His own cock was dripping onto Jimmy's stomach. Jimmy put his hands onto Thomas' hips and gently coaxed him downwards, silently permitting Thomas to continue his descent onto him.

Thomas leaned forward slightly to adjust the angle; he had been penetrated many times before but not many like this. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible; he wanted to show Jimmy that it was a loving act, and not an act of abuse. He looked downwards, and realised Jimmy was fully inside him. Jimmy's face was a picture of perfection: happiness, emotion and lust.

"This feels really good," whispered Jimmy, pushing his hips upwards slightly to try and get deeper inside Thomas. "I never thought it would be like this at all." He reached to put his hand around Thomas' cock, and as Thomas rose and fell back onto him, his hand gripped tighter to allow Thomas to fuck it gratefully.

Thomas started to lose control; he could feel Jimmy's cock deep inside him, rubbing against his sweet spot and opening him up. He felt Jimmy's hand on him, and indulged in the waves of pleasure that were rippling through his whole body. His breathing became shallow; beads of sweat were forming on his chest. Just then he felt Jimmy's cock tense up inside him; he looked into Jimmy's eyes and saw pure love shining back at him. Jimmy's right hand tightened around Thomas' cock; the other gripped onto Thomas' hip, his short nails digging into Thomas' flesh.

Jimmy's eyes rolled backwards and his hips bucked, coming deep inside Thomas with a groan. His head span as he squirted every last drop, giving himself to Thomas completely.

As Thomas watched Jimmy orgasm, he knew he had no way of stopping his own inevitable climax, and had never needed it so much in his life. He closed his eyes and slammed himself onto Jimmy, allowing the pleasure to crash over him like a thousand waves. His cock exploded, ejaculating over Jimmy indelicately, and his muscles clenched tightly around Jimmy's cock as his orgasm delved deeper inside him.

Shaking, Thomas opened his eyes to survey the young footman he loved so dearly. Jimmy was covered in his seed, and he didn't know whether to feel good or bad about the dripping liquid covering Jimmy's chin. Jimmy didn't seem to mind, however; he was looking up at Thomas, a smile forming on his soft lips, beckoning for Thomas to join him in a sweet embrace.

"I'll just get a towel," said Thomas, raising his hips to extract Jimmy from himself delicately, trying not to make any further mess on the bed. He grabbed a small towel from the chair and wiped Jimmy down quickly. "I think I might have to burn this one," he said with a grin. He got into bed with Jimmy and the two of them lay together, Jimmy with his head on Thomas' chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat.

"That. Was. Amazing!" said Jimmy, quietly.

"Well, it wasn't bad," joked Thomas, trying to smooth Jimmy's hair as it ticked his chin.

"It's a good thing I know you're joking, Mr Barrow," said Jimmy, enjoying having his hair played with. "I don't think we need a wake-up call ever again if we can do _that _every morning!"

"Speaking of which, we'd better get up. We don't want anyone finding us here like this, especially not after O'Brien snooping round last night."

"Hmm, you had to mention that old hag, didn't you? Now I've definitely lost my sense of adventure," said Jimmy with a sigh.

"That's probably just as well – we don't have time for anything else now," said Thomas, extracting himself from Jimmy and getting out of bed. "Until tonight, you beautiful boy," he added, kissing Jimmy on the head.

Jimmy smiled happily. "Do you think I'm beautiful?" he blushed, pulling his own clothes on.

"Of course I bloody do! Now stop being a girl and get out of here – Carson will have your guts for garters if you're late." Thomas watched as Jimmy winked at him and bolted out of the door – he'd never felt happier in his life. His love for Jimmy was so pure, so sweet; for a moment he almost forgot that if anyone found out, their lives would effectively be over.

_We'll just have to make sure no-one ever knows._

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Sorry it was so long! The next one is Tom-centric, for those of you who like him, but will also feature more Thomas/Jimmy shenanigans. It's currently in bullet-list form, but I will try my hardest to get it fleshed out before next week. **


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: A midweek update for my wonderful readers! I hope you enjoy it! (Warning for slash)!**

* * *

Tom adjusted his tie for the fourth time. He looked at himself in the mirror, wondering whether he was trying too hard, or not hard enough, with his appearance for the evening. James was due to arrive at The Grantham Arms at 7 o'clock, and Tom had promised to meet him there. What for, he didn't quite know.

_You'll do,_ he thought to himself, buttoning up in his jacket.

He picked up his coat, and kissed Sybil on the head. "Daddy is going out to meet a friend. I'll be back later," he said, as the nurse came in to look after her. Tom smiled kindly at the nurse, thinking of his late wife, and headed out the door. As he walked down the corridor he bumped into Thomas, on his way to take the wine to the dining room for that evening's meal.

"Sorry, Thomas, didn't see you there," said Tom, stepping backwards to allow the under-butler room to navigate around him.

"I'm not surprised, you look like you're about to get married or summat! Don't look so scared - it's only dinner!" Thomas was bemused by the terrified look on Tom's face.

"No, I won't be at dinner tonight. I'm going to meet James, you know, the man I told you about. He's staying at The Grantham Arms for a couple of days, so I said I'd have a drink with him."

"Oh really? No wonder you're looking so nervous. Do you know what his intentions are?" said Thomas, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Haven't a clue. We've written, of course, but kept our letters very platonic. Talked about the war, the family and such like. No matters of the heart whatsoever." Tom was pale, and he was annoyed to find that his hands were slightly shaky.

Thomas noticed Tom's demeanour, and tried to calm him. "Tom – don't worry. He probably just wants to talk – it's been a long time since you've seen each other. I'm sure he doesn't intend to seduce you...unless you want him to?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "I honestly don't know. It's been so long, and we've both been married and widowed since we last...y'know. I won't know how I feel about him until I see him."

"That's fair enough. Well, good luck anyway. You'll have to let me know how everything goes," said Thomas, as he departed for the dining room.

"Thanks." Tom's reply was short; it was good of Thomas to listen to his problems, especially now he was so loved up with Jimmy. It should have felt strange talking to him about matters of the heart, but it didn't. Resisting the urge to turn round and walk back to his room, he continued out of Downton and headed towards the pub.

* * *

Tom pushed the door of The Grantham Arms, and wasn't surprised to see it empty, except for two old men sitting on stools at the bar. He was early; it was only a quarter to seven, and James wasn't due for another 15 minutes.

He ordered himself a Guiness, and shakily carried it to a table in the corner, out of earshot of both the bartender and the two men. Tom recognised them as regulars, and it wouldn't do for them to overhear the conversation James and he might be having. He took a sip; _a bit of Dutch courage might not be such a bad thing tonight, _he thought.

James arrived at 7 o' clock precisely. The door to the pub creaked open, and Tom's head shot round to see if it was him. Although James' once jet black hair now carried flecks of grey and he'd shaved off the moustache he once sported as a younger man, Tom would have picked him out of a crowd anywhere. His blue eyes sparkled and his mouth spread into a lopsided grin as he recognised Tom, and he strolled over to the corner table, removing his hat.

"Well there's a sight for sore eyes eh? Tom, how are ya lad?"

_He always did sound confident, even in the most nerve-wracking of times,_ thought Tom, standing up to face his old lover.

"James! Good to see you again! Sit down, you must be exhausted. How was the crossing from Dublin?" Tom took James' suitcase and bag from him and offered him a seat.

"Not bad actually, not bad. I could do with one of those though. Or two." He pointed to Tom's Guiness, and collapsed onto the chair opposite him. Tom was already on his way to the bar; he ordered a Guiness for James and another one for himself, and brought them back to the table. James took a long gulp and placed it on a mat, running his tongue along his upper lip to remove any foam. Tom couldn't help but glance at James' succulent lips, remembering what they felt like on his own. _Probably a lot better now he doesn't have that stupid moustache, _thought Tom, with a small smile.

"So," asked Tom, draining his first pint and starting on the second, "How have you been? How's Patrick, he must be, what, six years old now?"

"He's grand, Tom, just grand. Chip off the old block, mind. He's always getting into scrapes at school, nothing serious though. Here," he said, reaching into his pocket, "I've got a picture."

Tom took the crumpled photo from James' hand, and almost did a double take. The boy in the photograph could have quite easily been James as a youngster; the similarities were uncanny. The jet black hair, the blue eyes, the narrow set nose. This was James' boy all right.

"He looks just like you, James. You must be very proud," said Tom, handing the photo back.

"I am. His sister was just like her ma when she was born – red hair, freckles. Paddy was besotted with her. He was beside himself when she passed away." James looked distant, his eyes watering slightly. The memory was clearly still very painful. Tom wanted to reach over and take James' hand in his own, but didn't think it a good idea in such a public place. "Anyway...Paddy's at my sisters' right now, she's got two boys of her own, so he's in good company. I don't much like her husband though, he's a wrong un if I ever knew one."

"So you've forgiven her, then? For telling your pa about...us?" Tom didn't want to bring up their relationship so soon into the conversation, but the Guiness was having an effect already, and he couldn't bear not knowing what James was intending for his visit.

James shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Oh, right, that. Yeah, I couldn't blame her for that. She was young then. We all were..."

Tom took a long sip of his drink. The conversation was not exactly going in a direction that was making him feel good. He downed the rest of his pint and made to go to the bar again. James held up his hand. "Oi! It's my round, I think!"

Tom smiled weakly and gave his empty glass to James. Tom watched as James made small talk with the bartender, and wished the evening was going a little better. Upon his return, James set down two pints and two whiskeys, raising one eyebrow at Tom. "Has being in England turned you into a woman, or can you still drink like you used to?"

"I think I can manage a whiskey or two!" said Tom.

"Or three!" The two men said simultaneously, laughing as they threw the tipple down their necks, wincing slightly at the heat now spreading to the back of their throats.

"Blimey, that was strong!" said Tom, shaking his head. "Reminds me of that time you nicked that bottle from your pa, and we drank it down by the river. What was that stuff again?!"

"I have no idea, but I don't think it was supposed to be drunk. I think it was for cleaning cars or something! Boy, did I have a headache the next day!" James remembered with a shudder.

"Well, at least you didn't vomit all over your own doorstep – my ma had me scrubbing the garden path until she could see her face in it!" Tom laughed at his own unfortunate memory.

The two men began to reminisce over old times, and Tom felt himself relaxing. _This is more like it_, he thought, grinning at James' story about how they once cycled all the way to Edenderry on Tom's bicycle, but obtained a puncture on the way back, causing them to walk twenty miles in the rain. Tom couldn't help but feel that inviting James over was a good idea; despite the lengthy time apart, it felt like nothing much had changed. Once or twice he found himself gazing into James' eyes whilst he spoke, and thought he caught James staring at him whilst he was at the bar, ordering yet another round of whiskeys.

_This could be a great night,_ Tom thought, shoving his change back into his pocket and hurrying back over to the corner table. "To Ireland!" he said, slurring slightly, and he raised his whisky glass to James' own.

"To Ireland!" James' repeated, knocking back his shot in one; his mouth and throat numbed to the point of barely noticing the strength of the liquor. "Right; bedtime I think!"

Tom, although fuzzy-headed from the alcohol, suddenly felt nervous again. _What does he mean by that, exactly?_ He thought he'd better clarify. "Do you...want me to come with you?" he asked, quietly.

"Of course, Tom, of course!" hiccupped James, handing his bag to Tom and picking up his suitcase. He zigzagged over to the back of the pub, and made his way up the stairs to the room that the bartender had given him directions to earlier. Tom followed him, his stomach all a-flutter. Although he had been with Thomas recently, being with James again was going to be different. There were real feelings there; it wasn't just a physical attraction.

They reached the door to the room and James fumbled around with the lock. Once opened, he crossed the threshold with his suitcase and dropped it on the floor by the bed. Tom entered the room after him, still clutching James' bag. "Where do you want this?" he asked, as James flopped onto the bed in the middle of the room.

"Oh, anywhere where I'm not likely to trip over it!" He laughed, gesturing the empty space on the floor by his suitcase. Tom placed the bag on the floor, and sat on the bed next to James. Not quite knowing what to do next, he was slightly startled as James suddenly flung his arms around him, almost flattening him on the bed in a hug.

"Ah, it's so good to see y'again Tom. I didn't realise how much I've missed you!"

Tom's heart melted a little. "It's so good to see you too James! Thank you for coming over, you have no idea how much I've thought about this!"

James pulled away from the embrace, slowly. His eyes were moistened round the edges, but he was smiling, and Tom knew that now was his chance. He placed a hand on James' cheek, and moved his lips towards James' own, closing his eyes.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" bellowed James, angrily. Tom's eyes shot open; James had sprung up from the bed, and he was standing stock still, staring at Tom with a look of horror on his face.

"But...I thought..." stuttered Tom, not understanding.

"You think I came over here for _that_? You've got to be kidding me, Tom. I came over here to catch up with _an old friend_, not for a cheap fuck in a pub." James' eyes were flashing with rage.

"But, you asked me to come up to your room with you – what was I supposed to think?" Tom was crestfallen.

"I only wanted you to help me with my bags, nothing else! I'm sorry if you thought that I'd come here to be with you, but I haven't. That was a long time ago Tom, you know that! Dead and buried!"

Tom didn't know what to say. He was beyond embarrassed, and before James could say anything else, he'd darted out of the room and down the stairs. His head was pounding.

_How could I be so stupid to think that he'd still want me, after all these years?! _Tom thought, exiting the pub hastily. _I'm such a bloody idiot!_

Tom felt tears prickling in his eyes as he sped back to Downton. He barely noticed that it was raining; the drops pelting down on him could not have hurt nearly as much as the rejection he had faced just moments ago.

Thomas was standing outside in the yard, puffing on his nightly cigarette. Squinting his eyes, he spotted Tom's lonely figure pacing towards the house, and beckoned him over to talk.

"Tom! You're back earlier than I expected, how'd it go?" Thomas smiled, pressing himself as close to the house as possible to keep dry. To his surprise, Tom's shoulders gave an almighty shudder as he descended into violent sobbing. He kept his gaze to the floor in embarrassment at showing such emotion in front of the under-butler.

"Bastard wasn't interested! We got drunk, went up to his room, then I tried to...well, let's just say, he wasn't after a '_cheap fuck'_."

Thomas winced at the words, and guessed they had come from James' mouth. His heart cried out for the Irishman, knowing too well how it felt to raise your hopes and have them dashed back down within moments.

"Tom...I don't know what to say. I'm sorry..." Thomas knew that nothing he said would make Tom feel better. He finished his cigarette and awkwardly patted Tom's arm.

Tom looked up at Thomas, whose hair was reacting badly to the moisture in the air and flopping over his face in large strands. _God, he looks handsome in the rain,_ was all he could think at that moment. In his drunken stupor he craned his neck up towards Thomas, and lunged towards his lips. Before Thomas could do anything, he heard a voice calling out to him through the back door.

"Thomas? Come back inside, you'll catch your death out there!" The voice was followed by its owner, and Thomas whipped his head away from Tom's just in time to see the look of hurt on Jimmy's face before he ran off inside the building.

"Shit!" muttered Thomas, looking angrily at Tom. "What did you do that for!? You know that all that between us is over!" He ran after Jimmy, cursing Tom as he went.

Tom fell back against the wall and slid down to the ground, sobbing. Not just once had he been rejected tonight, but twice. He looked up at the sky, his face dripping with rain, and cursed the Heavens for taking Sybil away from him.

"Why did you have to go, my love? Why!? Look at what I've become, a man seeking pleasure in the wrong people, and I've no-one to blame but myself. God, I miss you so much, Sybil! If you're up there, please help me find happiness! Please!" He pleaded, bending his knees upwards and resting his head on them. All of a sudden he felt the familiar churn of his stomach, telling him he'd drunk too much. Deftly, he turned to his right and vomited, heaving and clutching his chest.

"My my, what have we here? Has someone been overdoing it on the sauce tonight?" Mrs Hughes had appeared at the doorway, and was looking down at Tom in her motherly way. He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot with tears and rain, not knowing what to say. "Come on," she said, beckoning him up, "let's find you a bed. You'll not be much use to young Sybil tonight." She helped him up, and led him inside.

* * *

"It wasn't what it looked like!" Thomas had gone up to his and Jimmy's room to find Jimmy curled up in bed, still fully clothed, facing the other way. "I swear to you, it wasn't!"

"Oh no? And what did it look like to you? To me, it looked like you and Tom had unfinished business. Business that I'm not a part of! Why would you do that?" Jimmy turned around angrily, and the hurt was obvious in his eyes. He'd only just started to accept that Thomas was his; and that Tom didn't pose a threat any more.

"HE kissed ME! I didn't do anything, I was just stood there talking, and HE tried to kiss me! I pulled away Jimmy, you saw me!" Thomas was so distressed at seeing Jimmy hurting, and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Yeah, I saw you pull away, but only when I walked outside! Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't!" Jimmy said defiantly.

"NOTHING would have happened, Jimmy, nothing! I'm not interested in Tom now, you know that! You know how much I love you, please Jimmy. You know I'm yours now, my heart belongs to you, and no-one else. Please believe me." Thomas was crying now; the thought of losing Jimmy over something so stupid was heart-breaking. He looked over at Jimmy, pleading with him to see sense.

"Well, why did he try to kiss you? What happened that made him think you'd kiss him back?" Thomas noted that Jimmy's voice had softened. However, he made no attempt to touch Thomas or look at him.

"He was drunk, and upset. He'd gone to see an old friend, someone he used to be in a relationship with, and they'd had an argument. It's a long story, but it's true. You can ask him tomorrow, he'll say the same thing as me, I promise." _I hope he remembers, _thought Thomas.

Jimmy was silent for a few minutes, pondering Thomas' version of events. It had hurt him so much to see Thomas in an embrace with the Irishman again. He'd just gotten over seeing them together before, even though he had no right to be angry about those times. But this time...

"I don't know. I want to believe you, I do. But it looked..."

"I know how it looked, Jimmy, and I'm so sorry. What can I do to convince you that I only have eyes for you?" Thomas looked at Jimmy, and his heart skipped when Jimmy finally met his watery gaze.

"Show me how much you love me."

"You know I love you, Jimmy. I have done since the day you walked into the kitchen." Thomas misunderstood Jimmy's request.

"Show me."

Thomas looked into Jimmy's eyes, and saw a boy in desperate need of love. Jimmy's heart was calling out for him; for his hands, for his lips, for his body. Thomas understood now. He took Jimmy's face in his hands and their lips joined like opposite ends of a magnet, the irresistible pull stronger than it had ever been before.

Thomas grabbed at Jimmy's clothed body, and hurriedly unfastened the boy's shirt, revealing the tanned physique he yearned for so much. Planting kisses down Jimmy's chest, he undid Jimmy's trousers, and took Jimmy into his mouth, sucking hungrily whilst Jimmy closed his eyes and moaned loudly. Thomas delighted in sliding Jimmy's cock into his mouth as far as he could, feeling the tip graze the back of his throat, the droplets of liquid escaping onto his tongue.

Jimmy grabbed Thomas' head and thrust into him; Thomas was his, and only his. He was delirious with the sensations that Thomas was giving him, but yet he wanted more. He wanted to be taken; to be fucked. He wanted to experience anything and everything, and for Thomas to never need to go elsewhere ever again.

Thomas felt his head being pulled away from Jimmy's cock, and let out a cry in protest; only being stilled when Jimmy kissed him, probing Thomas' mouth with his tongue forcefully. Jimmy undressed Thomas, not letting their mouths break contact, and took Thomas into his hand, eliciting a gasp from the older man. Jimmy wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he lay on his back and guided Thomas towards his entrance, making it clear what he wanted.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, his feelings torn. Seeing the younger man laying there, open and wanting, was almost enough to send him to a climax straight away, but he remembered his first time, and he didn't want to hurt Jimmy.

"Are you sure about this? We don't have to."

"Yes we do. I want it, and I know you do, I can see it in your eyes." Jimmy was adamant. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't nervous, but he was ready.

"Well, if you're sure...just let me get some oil first." Thomas rooted around in his drawer, and pulled out the small bottle of oil that Tom had given him. He hadn't thought he'd needed it again, and had allowed Thomas to have it, for this very purpose. He slicked a generous amount onto his right hand, and masturbated himself to lubricate his erection. He poured a little more onto his fingers.

Leaning down to kiss Jimmy, he slid his hand underneath Jimmy's buttocks and moved his fingers towards Jimmy's entrance. He smiled subtly as he remembered pushing his tongue inside, and how Jimmy had enjoyed it. He inserted one finger first, slowly and carefully, feeling Jimmy tense up around it. "Relax, Jimmy."

Jimmy took a deep breath, and tried to relax as Thomas slid another, and then a third, finger inside him. The feeling, although not painful, was uncomfortable, and he tensed up involuntarily.

Thomas sensed Jimmy's discomfort. "Do you want me to stop? " He asked, removing his fingers slowly.

"No, please don't stop. I need you inside me, now."

Thomas moaned softly at Jimmy's instruction. He bent Jimmy's knees up to his chest, and pushed the tip of his cock towards Jimmy's entrance, which was now oozing with oil. Kissing Jimmy's forehead, he applied a little pressure, and rotated his hips to get Jimmy used to the feeling.

Jimmy closed his eyes and let Thomas push his way in a little more, trying to ignore the strangeness of the sensation happening upon him. It was beginning to feel good - extremely good.

Thomas was almost fully inside Jimmy; he was desperately trying not to get carried away, knowing that all it took was one uncontrollable thrust and he would spasm uncontrollably to a climax. Jimmy felt wonderful around him – warm, tight, inviting. He retracted a little, looking at Jimmy's face for any sign of distress, and Jimmy's eyes flickered open. He needn't have worried – Jimmy was enjoying himself immensely. Thomas thrust into Jimmy again, trying not to moan loudly at the pleasure that shot through his groin and to every inch of his body.

Jimmy's erection strained against his stomach, and Thomas reached down to grab it, caressing it lovingly in his hand in time with his thrusts. Jimmy knew at that precise moment that Thomas loved him, and that he was telling the entire truth about the incident with Tom. He had never felt more wanted, more desired, more loved. He could feel Thomas' cock rubbing against a spot deep inside him, sending spirals of bliss around his veins like a drug. He closed his eyes and allowed his orgasm to consume him, spurting over and over onto himself, his muscles clenching around Thomas' cock as his back arched off of the bed.

Thomas watched as Jimmy came, and his rhythm increased in pace, almost frenziedly, as he became desperate to experience it for himself. He could feel every fibre of Jimmy's passage around him, squeezing his cock and willing him to give in to the wonder that was encompassing his body. His legs tensed; his breathing quickened. A hot sensation was spreading upwards from his thighs to his groin; a tsunami of unbridled emotion was flowing downwards from his brain. With one last push he closed his eyes and lost control; he came hard, deep inside Jimmy, again, and again, until he truly had nothing left to give.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed - and I hope I did Tom's character justice. I find him difficult to write, especially as I have gone all AU on his ass and made him bi. I wasn't intending to put any of the James stuff in originally, Tom was just going to have a minor part in the story, but it seems some of you wanted to see Tom and James' story, so in it went! The next chapter is quite eventful, and it will be up at the weekend! Thank you for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Very long chapter for your Saturday night viewing pleasure! I hope you enjoy it. Once again thank you for all the reviews, I dance a little inside at each and every one of them. Prizes for spotting a Downton spoof quote! Warning for a little bit of slash too ;)**

* * *

As happy as Thomas and Jimmy were feeling that week, Tom was feeling just as miserable. He regretted drinking so much on his visit to James, knowing that without the alcohol, he would have not been so bold as to attempt to kiss not one, but two former lovers that night. Thomas had been avoiding his gaze during mealtimes, and had not wanted to strike up conversation during any moments alone in case Jimmy got the wrong impression again. Tom understood, but he missed the unusual friendship they had embarked upon.

It was late morning, and Tom had refused Lord Grantham's offer of going on the hunt. Lord Grantham knew that Tom would not come, but he had thought it best to ask out of formality. Tom welcomed the time alone in the library to think.

Tom knew in his heart that he needed to see James again.

_I'll go this evening, after dinner. Even if he doesn't want to talk, hopefully he'll listen at least. I need to apologise. Sybil would want me to._

The thought of his late wife tugged on his heart. Not one day went by when he didn't miss her, and instead of fading away it seemed to be getting worse. He thought that by seeking intimacy with another, that he would somehow be pacified, but it was empty intimacy; he needed love. James had loved him once – could he love him again?

* * *

The servants were downstairs, eating their lunch. His Lordship being out on the hunt meant that the day had been quiet, and apart from the usual cleaning of silverware and mending of garments, Jimmy was enjoying the almost relaxed atmosphere of the day. It gave him time to daydream; to think about Thomas. He cast his mind back to the night before, when they had made love for almost an hour. He didn't even care about the lack of sleep he was getting – the joy of Thomas was more than keeping him awake during the daytime.

He looked up from his bowl of soup and smiled to himself when he saw that Thomas was watching him, a similar look of reminiscence about his face. The two lovers tried desperately to keep their faces straight before Carson noticed and punished them for daring to be happy, when O'Brien's sultry tones cut across the room like a knife.

"And what are you two looking so smug about, I wonder?" she asked, glancing between the pair of them. She was deliberately trying to bring their happiness to the attention of the other servants, to make them suspicious of the pair.

"Nothing," smirked Jimmy, lowering his face to his bowl to hide the redness in his cheeks.

"Don't look like nothing to me. Maybe you should share it with us - we all like a good joke!"

"You must do – you are related to Alfred after all," muttered Thomas, only meaning Jimmy to hear. Unfortunately, not only did O'Brien hear, but so did Carson.

"Mr Barrow! If you do not have anything nice to say, please do not say it. If you could refrain from insulting comments during mealtimes, we'd all be able to eat in peace." Carson's words were final; even Thomas did not want to argue with him. Luckily, Thomas' rudeness about Alfred had diverted the attention away from why Jimmy and he had looked so happy. A tactic that Thomas had perfected over the years – his wry wit was enough to keep anyone from asking further questions. It was his defence mechanism; but Jimmy found it extremely attractive.

_I wish I was so quick witted, _he thought, noticing O'Brien staring at Thomas furiously. _If only to get that old cow off my back, and Thomas'. She's being too nosy, and I don't like it much. At least Thomas manages to keep her at bay with his sharp tongue._ Unfortunately, the thought of Thomas' tongue had Jimmy grinning again, remembering how deftly it dealt with his erection that morning. He stifled a snort into his soup.

O'Brien opened her mouth to remark again, but was interrupted by the ringing of a bell. Someone was at the front door of the house. Mrs Hughes looked at Carson in surprise.

"Are we expecting anyone today, Mr Carson?" she said, turning to the butler.

"No, we are not," he replied. "Barrow, if you would like to go and see who it is?"

Thomas was a little irritated at having to leave his lunch, but relieved that he would not be sitting in such close proximity to Jimmy without being able to touch him. It was getting more difficult to pretend, and he was afraid that one day he would accidentally touch Jimmy in public and get them both into trouble. He knew they would both go to prison if they were ever found out, and he feared, not for himself, but for Jimmy. _They'd eat him alive in there,_ he thought with a shudder.

He reached the front door and opened it swiftly. A man stood before him, gaping in awe at the size of the house. He was around Thomas' age, maybe a year or two younger. Dressed in a brown tweed suit, Thomas guessed he wasn't an acquaintance of Lord Grantham. He looked the man up and down. _Attractive, if you like that sort of thing,_ thought Thomas. _And I don't._

"Can I help you, sir?" drawled Thomas, with an air of superiority.

The man looked like he didn't know where to begin. Thomas sighed impatiently.

"Yes, I mean, I think so," he said, and Thomas picked up on his Irish accent straight away. _Is this...?_

"Collier, James Collier," said the Irishman, holding out his hand. Thomas declined to offer his own. _He clearly has never met a butler in his life,_ thought Thomas, harbouring a dislike to this man already.

"Are you here to see Branson?" asked Thomas.

"Yes I am, that is, how do you know...?" James looked worried for a moment.

"The Irish accent...I just supposed..." Thomas couldn't be bothered to explain further.

"Of course, that makes perfect sense!" said James, relieved.

Thomas narrowed his eyes. He was surprised at how much he hated the man before him, yet he hardly knew him. He had an urge to tell the man that Tom was out on the hunt, and spare him from any further hurt. _It's not my decision to make,_ he concluded, regretfully. Mrs Hughes appeared, and Thomas gave her the instruction to find Tom and bring him to the small drawing room. He would take James there himself and wait with him until Tom arrived.

Thomas couldn't help but be surprised that this was the man Tom had talked about to him. Tom had always made him out to be confident, cocky even, and handsome to boot. Thomas guessed that maybe James had been handsome in his younger days, but that life had taken its toll.

_Or maybe I just like them a little younger,_ he thought naughtily, Jimmy's youthful good looks springing into his mind.

James was fidgeting with his tie; he was definitely not appearing confident to Thomas.

"So, how do you know Branson?" Thomas thought he would interrogate James whilst they were waiting, for fun if nothing else.

"Oh, we knew each other back in Ireland. I'm over here for a couple of days, thought we'd catch up." James obviously didn't want to mention their meeting the other night.

"How lovely. Has it been a long time since you've seen each other?" Thomas enquired, pretending to be ignorant to the knowledge he held.

"Yes, it's been a while. Around 12 years, I think. I don't really know what I'm going to say!" He said the last sentence more to himself than anything, but Thomas took it upon himself to offer some advice.

Hearing Mrs Hughes and Tom approaching outside the room, Thomas walked past James to get the door, and as he did so, leaned in towards James and whispered into his ear.

"Try not to call him a 'cheap fuck' this time, eh?"

James stared open-mouthed at Thomas' back as the under-butler opened the door for Mrs Hughes and Tom. All sorts of things were going through his head as Tom entered the room, looking just as sheepish. Mrs Hughes didn't hang around; she left with Thomas, curious as to why Thomas was chuckling to himself as they ventured back downstairs.

To say that Tom was surprised to see James was a vast understatement. Although he'd resigned himself for another visit to the pub that night, he never actually thought that James would come to see _him._ He saw James surveying the grand house in wonder and started to feel a little embarrassed at the social position he had managed to obtain.

"This place is quite something, eh Tom?" said James, trying to open the conversation on a lighter note than the one in which it had previously finished. "You never said you lived in a castle!"

"It's not quite a castle, but yes it is a grand place. I never planned to live here, you know. I had my life planned out with Sybil in Dublin. Things didn't quite work out the way I wanted them to." Tom looked sad; he knew he should be grateful for the hospitality of the Crawleys following Sybil's death, but he found it difficult to live in a place that reminded him of her constantly.

"No, they don't," agreed James. "I can vouch for that."

Silence fell between the two men. Neither knew what to say, nor where to look.

"That butler of yours – he seemed to know a lot about me. Should I be worried?" James hardly dared ask, but he needed to know what Tom had been saying.

"No, you needn't worry. He's just a good friend of mine." Tom kept his rely brief; he didn't after all know what Thomas had whispered to the Irishman upon leaving.

"Just a friend? He seemed quite protective of you," James enquired, with a small smile.

"Yes. Not that it's any business of yours," Tom said, secretly feeling a little pleased at Thomas' loyalty, even after he had almost ruined his relationship with Jimmy. "Look, James, I do need to talk to you, but I can't do it here – my father-in-law will be back soon, and I don't want any awkward questions asked. It's taken him years to trust me, and I don't want to give him an excuse to stop me from seeing my daughter. I will come and meet you at the pub after dinner, and we can start again."

"If that's what you want," said James, standing up to leave.

"It is. I will see you out." Tom hated how formal he sounded, _almost like I'm one of them now. _But he didn't quite know what to say, and he knew that he definitely couldn't say it in this house. He opened the door and the two of them walked towards the front of the house. Tom shook James' hand, in case anyone happened to be watching them, and bid farewell to his former lover. At least he knew that James was willing to talk, which made him feel happier about going to see him again.

_That's one ex-lover sorted out. Now I've got to go and find Thomas._

* * *

Outside in the backyard, Thomas was regaling Jimmy with the details of James' arrival, much to Jimmy's amusement. Thomas had managed to explain the situation that led to Tom trying to kiss him the other night, and Jimmy was beginning to feel a little sympathy for Tom, rather than jealousy.

"Did you actually say that to him as you left?!" Jimmy gasped in shock, upon hearing what Thomas had said to James.

"I did indeed. He was most shocked," smiled Thomas, feeling a little smug.

"I can't believe you said that! Actually, I can," sighed Jimmy, looking up at Thomas with a look of pure devotion. He watched as Thomas blew out smoke, taking care not to blow it towards Jimmy.

"I don't know why you smoke, it's 'orrible stuff! But I must admit, you do look good when you do it."

Smiling at his young lover, Thomas was glad no-one was around, as he'd gone a nice shade of crimson. Jimmy had such a pure heart, and his compliments were starting to flow freely. _A little too freely,_ thought Thomas, looking around for signs of anyone. O'Brien was normally skulking around outside at this time of the afternoon, waiting for her Ladyship to ring after her nap. Luckily she was nowhere to be seen today.

Just then, Tom appeared at the doorway. "Mrs Hughes said I'd find you here. Could I have a word with you Thomas? Actually, I suppose you should hear this too, Jimmy." He shut the door behind him, looking around to make sure the three of them were alone.

Thomas nodded; Jimmy looked like he didn't know what to do. He hadn't been in the house when Tom was the chauffeur, and had always seen him as one of the upstairs lot.

"I'd like to apologise for my indiscretion the other night. It was wrong of me, and I don't want to blame it on the drink, but I believe that it played a big part in my behaviour. I'm sorry Thomas, for burdening you with my problems, when you surely have your own," Tom said, looking sorry for himself. "And I'm sorry Jimmy, for making you think that Thomas here was being unfaithful. He is not to blame in any of this."

Jimmy blinked as Tom stared directly at him. He found it bizarre that the three of them could just stand there and talk about these things; things that barely a month ago, he would have run a mile from. "I-I know that now, but thank you for saying it."

Tom smiled kindly at Jimmy. "I should hate to think you'd think less of me because of it. And Thomas? Am I forgiven?"

Thomas turned his head to the side. "I think you've suffered enough without me holding a grudge too. How did it go with James?"

"We kept it brief. I said I'd go and see him after dinner so we could talk properly. I didn't think it wise to talk in the house."

"And rightly so. I can't believe he had the cheek to come here at all! I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but felt it unprofessional," Thomas said, lighting up another cigarette.

"That's right – what exactly did you say to him? He got the impression that you were protective over me. I must say, I was quite touched!" said Tom, raising a smile.

"Oh, just my usual charm," Thomas replied, winking at Jimmy. He didn't think it a good idea to tell Tom what he really said, it'd only worry him.

"You? Charm?! I'll believe that when I see it!" joked Tom. "Anyway, I'd better not keep you, I'm sure you have dinner to prepare for and other such things."

"Actually, we've both been given the evening off. Carson reckons he and Alfred will be the only ones needed for dinner tonight, so we're at a bit of a loose end. Don't know _what _we're going to do!" he said, much to Jimmy's embarrassment.

Tom had an idea. "I don't suppose you two would like to 'borrow' my room again tonight, would you? Only for the evening, mind – I'll kick you out when I get back, make sure you don't fall asleep again. There's not much room in those small beds of yours...sorry, I didn't mean to sound so...snobbish," Tom looked down, wishing he'd never said anything. He'd managed to insult the servants and remind them that he knew exactly how small the bed was for nocturnal activities in one fowl swoop.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, who was looking unsure. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. At least then O'Brien won't come snooping round trying to catch us out. She's got a real bee in her bonnet about why we seem to be happy. She won't rest until she finds out."

"Why does she seem to take so much pleasure in the misery of others?" Tom asked, thoughtfully.

"I don't know. Maybe 'cos her hair's just knitting," Thomas replied solemnly, to which the three of them burst out laughing.

Tom recovered first. "That's settled then. I'll be going out at 8 – I'll leave the key in the room so you can lock yourselves in. O'Brien may be many things but she's not a locksmith!"

"Thanks Tom, I know it's a bit of a strange situation but I really appreciate this." Thomas shook Tom's hand as he went to leave.

"No problem Thomas. Glad I could help. And I truly am sorry, about..."

"I won't hear another word about it. Now go!" Thomas shook his head and stamped out his cigarette as Tom disappeared back inside the house. He turned to face Jimmy, smiling. "Well, we've got ourselves a nice big bed for the evening. What do you propose we do about it?"

"I've got a few ideas," replied Jimmy, "I still think it's a bit weird, but as you say, it'll stop O'Brien from finding us. She's got it in for us, in a bad way."

Agreeing, Thomas opened the back door and the two of them went back into the house. They still had things to do before they were dismissed for the evening, and the sooner they completed them, the sooner they could be together again. Luckily the kitchen was hubbub with noise, and no-one noticed their excited faces as they passed.

* * *

After dinner, Tom made his way back down to The Grantham Arms to see James, and hopefully talk about what had happened. He arrived at 8:15pm; he hadn't wanted to hang around after dinner in case he got stuck in a boring conversation the upper classes were so fond of.

Walking into the pub, he was surprised to find himself not as nervous as he'd expected. He'd had a few days to think about his life, and what he wanted from it. He saw James at the same table in the corner, and joined him. The two men greeted each other and shook hands; Tom noticed that James had already got him a pint.

"I think I'll take it easy on that stuff tonight," Tom said, "I had a terrible headache the next day last time."

"Well, at least you weren't sick on the doorstep again!" laughed James.

Tom looked sheepish. "Actually..."

"You weren't! Ah, Tom, you'll never change." James looked a little sad. "I'm sorry for being so hard on you the other night, truly I am. You just took me by surprise, that's all. I never thought that by coming over here, you would think that I was interested in reigniting that old flame. It was a different time back then. We were so young."

"I know that now. I just thought that you had come over here to be with me again. I can't believe how foolish I was." Tom took a sip of his drink. "So, why did you come over here?"

"I just wanted to see an old friend, Tom. Plus...I wanted to truly apologise for the way we left things. It must have been a shock, me turning up and telling you I was to be married. I always assumed that one day you would be too, and you'd understand why I had to finish things. We could never have carried on like we were. One day we would have been caught, and we would have been slung in jail."

"Do you still...have feelings for me?" Tom didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer or not, but he knew he had to ask.

"I didn't think I did, but seeing you the other night, I think that there is still something there. A spark that hasn't yet burnt out. But you understand that we can never be together, don't you? I have Patrick to think about, and you have Sybil. We'd never see them again if anyone found out. I'd give my life for him, but not in that way."

Tom thought about his daughter, and knew that James was right. "I do miss her terribly, you know. Sybil - my wife. I think about her every day. I realise now that I was just craving the love of another, but no-one could take her place. Maybe one day I'll meet another woman, but I'm just not ready yet." Tom took a sip of his pint, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes.

"I think about Catherine every day too – she was such a great girl, Tom. You would have liked her. She had real guts, you know? Not afraid to tell the world what she thought of them. It saddens me that Patrick didn't really know her; I bet you feel the same about little Sybil not knowing her mother either."

"I think about that all the time; whether I can be a mother and a father to her. Whether she'll be just like her mother when she's older. She's my world, and I wouldn't be without her."

"Friends, then? I hope we don't leave it another 12 years before we see each other again. Maybe I can bring Paddy next time, if you'd like?" James asked hopefully.

"I would like that, truly I would. If only I could come to Dublin to see you all, but you know I can't. You could stay at the house next time, now I know that things are to be platonic. I'm sure Lord Grantham would make you feel welcome."

"I'm not sure I could stay at a place that fancy, in case I broke something! And that butler didn't seem to like me much. How much did you tell him about me?" James asked, knowing that Tom was more likely to be truthful in a less formal environment.

"Pretty much everything. Thomas has been a good friend to me, and he was a friend to Sybil too. I may have lied when I said we were just friends though..." Tom looked embarrassed, and took another glug of his drink to allow James to draw his own conclusion.

"I knew it! A butler, who'd have thought it. I take it there's nothing going on now?" James said gleefully.

"No. He's with a footman now. In fact, they're probably doing all sorts of unmentionable things on my bedspread right now." Seeing James' astonishment, he added: "It's a long story. I must make it sound like Downton Abbey is an abundance of illicit behaviour. Which, I suppose, isn't far from the truth." He remembered Thomas telling him about Mary and Mr Pamuk and grinned.

James smiled back at him. He felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, and he was glad to be enjoying Tom's company and friendship again. The two men chatted for well over two hours until Tom bid him farewell, promising to keep in touch.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jimmy lay panting on the bed, stretched out, making the most of the grandeur he was being treated to this evening. Thomas had locked the door with the key, and set it aside on the table. He was grateful for the extra protection, and knew it would lead to a more relaxed session with his lover.

In the time it had taken for him to lock the door, Jimmy had undressed and was lying sideways across the bed, his head tipped back as it fell over the edge. He watched Thomas upside down, who was removing his attire carefully, knowing that it would not look good to return to the servants' quarters with crumpled up clothes. He picked up Jimmy's livery, which had been carelessly thrown on the floor.

"Hurry up, Thomas! I'm getting cold here!" Jimmy said, rubbing his arms where goosebumps had appeared.

"All right! You'll be thanking me for folding your clothes up later, when we have to put them back on again." Thomas knew that Jimmy had a lot to learn.

"I don't want to think about putting them on again," sulked Jimmy, "Now get yourself over here!"

"You're a bossy one, aren't you?" Thomas made his way over to the bed. He leaned over Jimmy, and planted an upside down kiss on his navel.

"That tickles!" squealed Jimmy, swatting Thomas away.

"Does it now? And what about this?" Thomas slid his tongue down to Jimmy's cock, semi-erect in anticipation. He took the head into his mouth and sucked gently, delighting when he felt it stiffen immediately.

"That...feels good..." murmured Jimmy. He looked upwards – Thomas was leaning right over him, and his own erection was hanging dangerously close to Jimmy's own lips. He stuck out his tongue and licked Thomas' shaft, causing Thomas' knees to buckle slightly.

"Mmmm, that's good. Let me get onto the bed and we'll do it properly. I don't think I've ever done this before. Never had the space," he muttered to himself. Thomas climbed onto the bed and lay on his side, taking Jimmy back into his mouth hungrily. Jimmy turned onto his side too, and grabbed hold of Thomas' cock with his hand. He started pumping it, then he put it in his mouth, giving Thomas the same pleasure that he was receiving from his lover.

Simultaneously, they sucked at each other, occasionally murmuring and moaning at the sensation of both giving and receiving. Jimmy was still in awe at Thomas' skills in this department – he'd obviously had a lot of experience, and he was flicking his tongue around Jimmy's slit like he'd done it every day for 15 years. Thomas was equally impressed at how quickly Jimmy had ventured into the unknown; he remembered how long it had taken him to be bold enough to take a man into his mouth.

Thomas pushed Jimmy's legs apart so his knee was bent and his foot placed on the bed behind his other knee. Resting his head on Jimmy's thigh, he removed Jimmy's cock from his mouth and sucked his fingers to moisten them up. Placing Jimmy's cock back in his mouth, he slowly circled Jimmy's entrance and pushed his way in. He felt Jimmy's lips tighten on his cock, and knew he had hit his sweet spot. He rubbed his fingers around inside Jimmy, and applied pressure to certain areas, knowing what it would do to the young man.

Jimmy writhed and moaned, not letting Thomas' cock slip out of his mouth for a second. Jimmy's moaning sent vibrations along Thomas' cock and deep into his groin, making him thrust his hips slightly, pushing his cock deeper into Jimmy's throat. Penetrating Jimmy as deeply as he could with his fingers, he felt a gush of liquid enter his mouth as Jimmy gave in to his orgasm, which he swallowed dutifully.

Jimmy paused whilst his orgasm faded away, then got straight back to the task of bringing Thomas to a climax. He moved his lips as far down Thomas' shaft as he could, trying to take all of the man in his mouth and throat. Thomas began to thrust rhythmically into Jimmy's mouth, knowing that he was not far away from his own orgasm. Jimmy tried to imitate what Thomas had done with his fingers, and slid one inside Thomas, not sure what he was feeling for, but enjoying the reaction he elicited from his older lover.

Thomas felt himself coming hard into Jimmy's mouth, spilling over his tongue for the first time. Jimmy gagged a little, but managed to swallow everything Thomas offered him. The two men lay there, spent, until Jimmy rotated himself round to face Thomas, kissing his lips tenderly.

"I quite enjoyed that!" said Jimmy, wrapping his arm around Thomas to keep them warm. "Did you?"

"It was wonderful, thank you Jimmy. I hope that's not us finished for the night – I didn't bring the ties and oil with me for nothing, you know!" Thomas pulled Jimmy closer, kissing his forehead.

Jimmy's eyes flashed playfully. "Oh, did you? Does that mean you're going to have your wicked way with me, does it?"

"Maybe. You'll have to wait and see. I'm not giving anything away!"

The two men kissed lovingly, already feeling themselves hardening for the next round. The night was theirs and no-one was going to take it away from them.

* * *

Carson walked along the corridor, thinking to himself. The night had gone by quite easily with just himself and Alfred at dinner. Alfred wasn't the best footman, but he was always eager to please, which was always good in Carson's books.

He turned the corner and was surprised to see young Sybil, looking a little lost. "My! What have we here? Are you lost, little lady?" Carson's heart always melted when he saw Sybil; she was beginning to look more and more like her mother every day. He crouched down to her level and took her arm.

"Daddy?" she asked, looking around her.

"No, Daddy's gone out this evening. Let's take you back to the nursery, shall we?"

Sybil didn't look happy to be going back so soon. "Teddy?" she asked, showing Carson her empty hands. "Want Teddy!"

"Aw, have you lost your Teddy? I'm sure it's back in the nursery, let's go and find him!"

"No! Teddy over there!" Sybil pointed down the corridor, towards Tom's room. Carson followed where she was pointing with his eyes, and stood up.

"Is Teddy in Daddy's room? Shall we go and have a look?" He picked Sybil up, groaning a bit under her weight. She was getting tall, which meant Carson would struggle to pick her up for much longer. Ignoring the pain in his left arm, he rested Sybil against his chest, moving slowly down the corridor towards Tom's room.

He turned the handle slowly; it was a struggle to hold Sybil with one arm, and he was surprised to find the door locked. _That's strange, _he thought, _Tom wouldn't normally lock his door if he went out._ Deciding that there was nothing to be done, he walked away from the door, meaning to head back to the nursery, when Sybil began to cry.

"Teddy!" she sniffed, still looking towards the door to the room.

Carson's heart melted at the tears in Sybil's eyes. "I tell you what I'll do, young lady. I'll go and get my spare set of keys so we can have a proper look for Teddy. Come with me!" He put her down; he couldn't hold her for much longer, his arm was tingling with the strain. He took her hand and they wondered off down the corridor.

Within a few minutes, Carson and Sybil were retracing their steps back to the room. Carson took out the spare key, and slid it into the lock. Sybil looked happy – she was watching Carson turn the key with much enthusiasm.

Carson turned the handle and pushed open the door. His eyes rested on the bed, where he spotted an abundance of flesh. In an instant, he found himself rendered unable to speak.

Jimmy was tied to the bed, naked. Thomas was on top of him, his head turned, sensing the intrusion. He cried out at the sight of Carson at the door, who was slowing turning purple.

Carson had dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Thomas panicked, and looked at Jimmy, seeing fear in his eyes. He turned back to Carson, and his heart plummeted to the ground.

"Oh God! We've given Carson a heart attack!"

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up by the end of tomorrow, so you won't have to wait too long! Also I apologise to anyone hoping for some Tom/James slash - I ummed and ahhed about whether to give them a sexy scene, but just didn't think it right for Tom's character, and I didn't want to upset the Tom/Sybil shippers!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Ok, I did a bit of research - heart attacks weren't particularly common back then, so I may have written inaccurately, but I hope it doesn't spoil the story for you! I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

* * *

Thomas was at a complete loss for words. He watched as Carson struggled to breathe, the seconds feeling like hours. Quickly coming to his senses, he jumped off of the bed and slipped on his underpants, rushing over to where Carson was laying now the ground. He didn't know much about heart attacks, but he had seen a few fellow soldiers collapse from shock during the war.

"Thomas!" Jimmy was still tied to the bed, unable to move. "Please untie me! I can't be found like this!" He was pulling against his restraints, panicking.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, and back at Carson. He knew Carson might not have much time – did he save his lover from embarrassment, or his boss from death?

Cursing his love for Jimmy, he raced over to the bed and undid one of the ties. Jimmy wrenched his arm free, and made to untie the other one, allowing Thomas to go back to Carson. Thomas rolled Carson over onto his side; luckily he was still breathing. He loosened Carson's shirt to allow him to breathe more easily, and turned round to Jimmy, who was pulling on his underpants.

"Go and telephone for the doctor! I don't know what else to do, but we've got to get him to a bed, and he may need an injection of adrenaline or something." Thomas' was wracking his brains, trying to recall his medical training, and knew that if he could save Carson, it didn't matter what happened to him and Jimmy.

Jimmy stood rooted to the spot, staring at the space that Carson was occupying on the floor. He couldn't move. No matter what he did to his legs, they wouldn't carry his body to the door.

"Jimmy! You need to go NOW! He might die!" Thomas knew they were running out of time.

Jimmy looked like he might burst into tears. He glanced over at the door, and tried to move, but just as he did so a face appeared at the door.

"What the BLOODY hell is going on?"

Lord Grantham stood in the doorway, looking at Jimmy in just his underpants, then at Thomas, also nearly naked, then at Carson on the floor with his shirt loosened. "Would someone like to tell me why my granddaughter was wondering around the corridors on her own, and why she has brought me to what can only be described as a complete confusion of chaos!"

He looked down at Carson again, and saw that he was unconscious. "Carson? Carson? Is he all right?"

Thomas didn't look at Lord Grantham when he spoke. "I think he's had a heart attack, m'lord. Jimmy was about to go and telephone for Doctor Clarkson when you arrived."

"A heart attack? And why the blazes is he having a heart attack? Or should I not ask?" he added, surveying the footman and under butler's lack of attire.

Thomas didn't answer, and Jimmy looked meekly at the ground.

"Is everything all right in here?" Mrs Hughes and Lady Mary had appeared at the door, hearing the commotion. They were joined by Lady Grantham and O'Brien, who was desperate to know what the gossip would be. O'Brien, not seeing Carson on the floor over all the other people, saw Thomas and Jimmy and could not contain the glee in her eyes.

Lord Grantham spoke. "Mrs Hughes, please go and telephone Clarkson. Carson here needs a doctor urgently. We think he may have suffered a heart attack." Mrs Hughes nodded and sped away, her face paling at the urgency of the matter.

"And what are Thomas and Jimmy doing in Tom's room? I don't understand." Lady Mary spoke, furrowing her brow.

"I don't think any of us understand that, Mary, but I'm damn well sure I will find out. Carson is our priority at this moment, however." Lord Grantham stared hard into Thomas' eyes. "I will deal with you two later, and I won't be so forgiving this time, Barrow. If Carson here doesn't make it..." He trailed off, shaking his head, and turned his attention back to the unconscious butler on the floor.

"Do you need me to call the police?" drawled O'Brien, struggling to contain herself. "It looks like Mr Barrow and Jimmy here have been found out, and tried to keep Carson quiet – what did you do to him?" She asked the question directly of Thomas, her eyes dancing with joy.

"I didn't do anything to him! He just walked in and saw us..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

"Saw you...what, exactly?"

"O'Brien, that's enough," said Lady Grantham, regaining her ability to speak. "I don't think you're helping matters with your accusations. If the police are to be called, it will be for my husband to decide. Can everyone please go back to their rooms and give Carson some space for when the doctor arrives."

O'Brien skulked off, glancing a final time at Thomas. He knew she had won; he knew he had been beaten. There was no way that Lord Grantham would be letting him off so lightly again. And he had dragged Jimmy into it this time; his heart was cold at the thought that Jimmy was going to suffer because of him.

Lord Grantham waited until he was alone with the two men and looked at the pair of them, his face contorted with rage. "You two – put some clothes on for Heaven's sake! I don't know what has gone on here tonight, or why, and I'm not sure I want to know either. But I cannot have you under my employment in this house any longer! I've a good mind to call the police myself! I lied for you once, Barrow, and I won't do it again! I want you both out of my house tonight. You have brought shame on Downton Abbey, and you may have caused the death of my most loyal servant. These are two things I cannot, and will not, forgive."

"But...we have nowhere to go, m'lord!" Cried Thomas, passing Jimmy's clothes to him with the only strength he had left in his body.

"That is not my problem! I have no sympathy for you any more, you have had enough chances in this house. I will not house servants that are so willing to flout the rules, not to mention the law! Get out of my sight!"

Thomas didn't wait to be told twice. He scarpered out the door, Jimmy behind him. They ran back down to the servants' quarters, ignoring anyone they passed on the way.

"Where are we going to go?" Jimmy asked, speaking for the first time in a while. He stuffed his belongings into a case, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I don't know, Jimmy. But we have to get out of here before they call the police. You are not going to prison because of me, I won't let them take you." Thomas was also piling his things haphazardly into his own case, emptying the contents of the drawers without care.

"It's not your fault! I was there too - I'm just as much to blame as you are!" Jimmy looked at Thomas, his eyes red and swollen.

"But I pursued you, I encouraged it. If I had just left you alone last year then none of this would've happened. I wish I had just kept my distance!" Thomas was furious with himself.

Jimmy looked crestfallen. "You wish..._this_...had never happened?! You wish I'd just stayed your friend? You wish I didn't love you back?!"

Thomas looked over at Jimmy, who had collapsed onto his bed. He hadn't meant to hurt Jimmy with his words, only protect him. "No! I mean, I'm glad you love me Jimmy! I just meant that if we hadn't been together, you would never be in danger like you are now, and it's my fault!" He sat down next to Jimmy on the bed, taking his hand. "But I don't regret any of it, for one second. I love you. I understand if you want to never see me again, if you want to make a life for yourself, pretend all this never happened."

"I could never do that! Wherever we go now, we go together. Even if we have to live on the streets, I want to be by you side. I don't care about anything else!" Jimmy was adamant, and Thomas' heart melted at his overwhelming loyalty.

"All right. But we need to get going. I have a little bit of money saved. Being...the way I am...means that I've never been able to take my job for granted, and especially after what happened last year, I've always been prepared in case I had to leave suddenly again." Thomas thanked his lucky stars that he had started to save in preparation for a day like this. "I don't have much though - enough to stay in the pub for a few days."

Jimmy looked over at Thomas gratefully, wishing he had had the foresight to do the same. "Do you promise to stay with me, and not try and go off in some ill-conceived notion that you're 'doing me a favour'?"

Thomas looked kindly at the younger man, both of them overcome with emotion, and knew that he could never leave Jimmy no matter what happened. "All right, I promise."

They finished packing in silence, checking that they had all of their possessions, leaving nothing behind. All of a sudden they sensed a presence in the room behind them.

"Her Ladyship says they've called the police. His Lordship didn't take kindly to finding sodomites in his son-in-law's room, especially as his butler has been rendered unconscious by it all. Dreadful business." O'Brien was pretending to look solemn, but the two men knew otherwise.

Thomas didn't know whether she was bluffing to panic them, but he didn't want to hang around long enough to find out. He glared at her as he picked up his coat, turning towards Jimmy, who had paled at her words. He pretended to shrug it off; he didn't want Jimmy to see that he was scared. He had to be strong for both of them.

"Come on, Jimmy. We don't want to hang around listening to an old hag tell lies. I don't believe a word of it!"

"Oh, you should believe it. You'll both be going to prison this time and no mistake. I'm just sorry I wasn't the one to catch you out," she said, looking mournful.

Thomas looked at her with the utmost hatred he had ever felt for anyone in his life. He and Jimmy were about to leave, with no reference, and possibly with the police on their trail, and this woman was taunting him, as if it was going to improve her own sad life by doing so.

She looked at Thomas, not quite finished. "I think _you_ might be all right, you're getting on a bit, but young Jimmy here will be _extremely_ popular with the inmates, if you catch my drift."

Thomas lost control of his temper. Pushing Jimmy out the door, he spat at O'Brien, rendering her speechless, as he left the room. Jimmy almost managed a grin, happy to see the woman who delighted in their misery suffer a small amount of revenge.

"Come on, let's not hang about. We'll go down to The Grantham Arms tonight, and decide what to do in the morning." He smiled weakly at Jimmy, trying to hide the fact that he was just as terrified.

They headed down to the kitchen, and bumped into Daisy on the way out.

"Where are you two going at this time of night? Why do you have your cases? Are you leaving?" Daisy's face was a picture of confusion.

Thomas made to ignore her, fearing for time, but then turned round to face her. He had known Daisy a long time, and had become quite fond of her. She was like a little sister to him. Seeing her reminded him that he was not likely to see any of his fellow servants again, and his heart felt like it was breaking.

"Jimmy and I, we're leaving. We've been sacked. I'm sorry Daisy, we need to go now." He hated to sound so formal, but there was no need to change a habit of a lifetime.

"But I don't understand! What could you have done that is so bad you have to leave _right now_?" Daisy was joined by Ivy and Alfred, who were eager to see what the fuss was about.

"We fell in love." It was Jimmy who spoke this time. He could see that Thomas was struggling to keep his composure, and knew that his lover would not want to be seen crying in front of the maids and Alfred, who was staring open-mouthed at the two of them. "See, Alfred? You managed to get rid of Thomas after all. But I'm going with him. I love him. There, I said it, wasn't so difficult to hear, was it?"

Ivy stifled a sob. "So this is why you broke it off with me, is it? 'Cos you're with _him?_ I don't understand you, Jimmy Kent!" And with that she ran from the kitchen.

Jimmy wished he hadn't been so blunt in front of Ivy. He almost made to go after her, but Thomas grabbed his hand. "We don't have time, Jimmy. If O'Brien's right, and the police are on their way, we can't be here when they get here. We'll never see each other again."

Jimmy nodded; he understood what Thomas was saying.

"Goodbye, Daisy. Tell Mrs Patmore I said goodbye too, and that I'll miss her cooking." Jimmy attempted a watery smile.

Daisy didn't know what to say. There was too much information to process, and the two men didn't have time to wait for her to process it. They opened the door, and clambered out into the night sky, walking steadily away from the house.

At around half way down the drive, Thomas stopped dead. Jimmy carried on a few paces until he realised Thomas was no longer beside him, and turned round to see Thomas staring up at the house, his shoulders heaving. Retracing his steps to join Thomas, he was dismayed to see tears streaming down Thomas' cheeks uncontrollably, where the former under butler had finally given in to his emotions.

Jimmy put down his case and wrapped his arm around Thomas, not knowing the words to comfort him. Thomas' heart was broken; he had been forced to leave his home of over ten years, save for the time away at war. As much as he might not admit it, Downton Abbey was his life, and leaving the house felt like leaving a piece of his soul behind. He would have done _anything_ for Jimmy, he knew, but he never truly believed it would come to this.

"Oh God, I'm going to miss it so much, Jimmy!" He cried, burying his head into Jimmy's shoulder. Now it was Jimmy's turn to be strong for the older man.

"It's all right, Thomas. Please don't be upset! We'll go and face the world together, the two of us. I don't know what we're going to do yet, but even if we have to sell ourselves on the street, at least we will do it together!"

Thomas lifted his head from Jimmy's shoulder, glancing at the wet patch he had made with his tears. "No, we'll not sink that low. Thomas Barrow is not going to sell himself for money! I'd rather die!"

Jimmy was a little pleased to see some of that fighting spirit back in Thomas that he loved so much, and the two of them picked up their cases and continued their journey down to the village.

A few minutes passed, and they spotted a shadowy lone figure walking up the path towards them. As they got closer, they recognised him and he stopped, looking puzzled.

"Thomas!" Greeted Tom, looking from him to Jimmy, not understanding what was going on. "Where are you going? What's happened?"

Thomas wiped his face on his sleeve, sniffing. "Carson caught us. He had a spare key, and unlocked the door. I think Sybil was looking for something, I don't know..." He trailed off, waving his hand around nonchalantly.

At the mention of Sybil's name, Tom paled. "Oh God no! Please tell me Sybil didn't see...?"

"No, I don't think so. She was outside the room when Carson walked in." Thomas assured Tom.

"Oh thank God, I would hate for her to see that," he sighed in relief, but looked worried again when he saw Thomas and Jimmy clutching their suitcases. "So, Carson gave you your marching orders then?" He asked, bitterly, feeling partly responsible – it had been _his _suggestion to use his room for the evening.

"Not exactly. He...kind of collapsed when he saw us. Possibly a heart attack or something. Lord Grantham found me trying to tend to him, and he sent Mrs Hughes to phone the doctor," Thomas explained. "So not only were we caught, naked, in _your _room, but we may have killed off Carson in the process. It'd be funny if it wasn't so terrible."

Tom didn't know what to say. He almost didn't believe it and thought Thomas was playing a joke on him, but one look at Jimmy's swollen eyes told him everything Thomas had said was true. He placed his arm on Thomas' shoulder. "Do you want me to go and talk to Lord Grantham? Persuade him to keep you on? You can't just leave like this, in the middle of the night! Where will you go?"

Thomas shook his head. "It's no use. His Lordship made it very clear we were to leave immediately, with no references. O'Brien told us that the police were on their way too, but she was probably just saying it out of spite, to scare us. We're going to go to the pub tonight, stay there for a night or two, and then decide what we're going to do. At least we have each other," he said, placing his hand in Jimmy's. "Oh, I almost forgot – how did it go with James? Did you sort everything out?"

"Don't you worry about that now, you've got more important things to think about!" Tom scolded. "But yes, everything is going to be all right. We're to remain friends. We're both still grieving, and our lives have changed so much since we were together. We've worked out what is important – our children – and I'm not going to risk losing Sybil for anything."

"I'm glad to hear that Tom, truly I am. I will write to you when we've decided where we're going to go. I need to know how Carson is; I'll never forgive myself if he dies." Thomas held out his hand to shake Tom's, and Jimmy did the same. "But we must be off...I don't want to be here if the police _do _turn up, and I don't want to incriminate you neither."

"Don't worry, I'm not ashamed to be seen talking to you," said Tom, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Oh, wait! Take this!" He held out his hand to Thomas, who saw that he was clutching a few notes of money.

"No, I couldn't take that, Tom. I've got some money, we'll survive for a couple of nights at least," said Thomas, pushing Tom's hand away.

"I insist, Thomas. You say you've enough for a few nights – what about next week, and the week after? It's not much, but it'll be enough to see you through a few weeks at least. Please take it – I owe you for being such a good friend to me. And Sybil would be proud to know I've helped you out, too."

Thomas felt his eyes welling up again. "Thank you, Tom. I don't know what I've done to deserve you but someone must be looking after me. Thank you!"

"All right, be off with you. Just make sure you send that letter when you know where you'll be!"

With a final nod, Tom set off towards the house again, and the two men made their way to the pub. Once there, they booked a room from the bartender and paid him, trying to avoid awkward questions as to why they only required one room. They didn't want to arouse suspicion, but they would run out of money more quickly if they booked unnecessary rooms; Thomas knew he could not sleep alone, for Jimmy's sake if not his.

They clambered up the stairs with their cases, and found the room number. Thomas closed the door behind Jimmy, and they lay down, fully clothed, on the bed, arms wrapped around each other tightly.

"What are we going to do?" asked Jimmy, a hint of fear in his voice.

Thomas resigned himself to be honest as a single tear rolled down his cheek and onto Jimmy's forehead.

"I don't know, Jimmy. I just don't know."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! There are 2 more chapters to go until the end of this story, and I'm aiming to have it finished by the end of next weekend. There may even be a bit of slash to look forward to ;)**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: A midweek helping for your enjoyment! This was originally going to be the last chapter, with an epilogue to follow, but I got carried away and wrote a little slash scene, and I've been writing for over 4 hours straight without a break, so thought I'd submit as is, with the actual last chapter by the weekend. I've had to do a bit of historical research (Googling!) for this chapter, and I apologise if there are any inaccuracies. I only mention the railway companies because I live in that area, so it was something of my own history I learnt and wanted to include!**

_**You touch my face, God whispers in my ear, There are tears in my eyes, love replaces fear...**_

**(Editors - Weight of the World)**

* * *

Thomas didn't sleep well that night. Even when Jimmy's breathing had slowed and he began to snore softly, Thomas stayed awake, trying to work out what tomorrow would bring. He was grateful for Tom's money – it would certainly keep a roof over their head for a couple of weeks, but what use were a couple of weeks when they had their lives before them and no references?

_At least this time I'm not on my own, _thought Thomas, thankfully. _Although it does present the problem of having two mouths to feed, instead of one._

He looked down at Jimmy's head which was resting on his chest and felt an overwhelming urge to wake him, just so that he didn't have to be alone with his thoughts. He decided, selflessly, to let him sleep; the unknown of the next day would most likely require at least one of them to be rested, and Lord knows it wasn't going to be him.

* * *

When Jimmy finally awoke the next day, Thomas had already been out to get the paper. Job advertisements were often advertised this way, and although it was mainly temporary work such as an extra farm hand or builder, they were less likely to require references.

"What's that?" asked Jimmy, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed.

"Just the paper. Thought I'd see if there were any jobs going."

"Round here? Is that a good idea? Won't the police be looking for us?" Jimmy looked sceptical.

"I doubt O'Brien was telling the truth. Lord G wouldn't have called the police, I'm sure of it." Thomas didn't sound sure, however. He looked at Jimmy's forlorn face and tried to lighten the mood. "Ah, here's one! 'Attractive ladies wanted for lingerie catalogue. No experience necessary. Apply now!' You'd make a great attractive lady, Jimmy! Stick you in a frock and folk'd be none the wiser!"

"Very funny. I don't think!" He said, pretending to look annoyed. He grabbed the paper from Thomas and scoured the page. "Aha! Here's one for you – 'Worker needed for Camel cigarette factory. Paid only in cigarettes.' That'd cut out the middle man, eh? Ah, but underneath it says 'Sarcastic gits needn't apply', so I guess that rules you out, doesn't it?"

"Let me see that!" Thomas ripped the paper back from Jimmy, who was trying to suppress a grin. "Hey, you little...!" He swiped a friendly poke at Jimmy's ribs, stumbling as Jimmy moved out of the way. He chased Jimmy around the little room, trying to 'punish' him for his cheek; eventually Jimmy gave in and they fell onto one of the small beds together, Thomas' body pressing against Jimmy's.

They both knew it wasn't the right time to be enjoying themselves, when there was so much to figure out. But the fact that they were in this predicament together was comfort enough for the next half an hour, and they clawed at each others' clothes until they were both naked, holding each other tightly and gazing lovingly into each others' eyes.

"You are beautiful, you know," said Jimmy, brushing a strand of hair out of Thomas' eyes. "I know that sounds corny and silly, but I can't believe I spent so long ignoring you, or at least _trying_ to ignore you. I just never knew that being with a man could be like this. You're very different when it's just the two of us. You're kind, and careful, and loving. I like the 'you' that I get to see. But I also kind of like that no-one else gets to see it but me. It makes me feel special."

"Oh, Jimmy," said Thomas, touched by the sincerity of Jimmy's little speech. "What can I say? You bring out the best in me, I suppose. Believe it or not, I don't enjoy being cold and nasty to people. Well, all right, maybe I enjoy it a little bit," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up a little. Jimmy smiled in return and Thomas feared he might cry. "Now shut up and kiss me!"

Jimmy didn't wait to be asked again. He pressed his lips against Thomas' and the two of them shifted slightly on the bed, to allow Thomas to press his erection towards Jimmy's buttocks and enter Jimmy slowly, kissing his neck and chest the whole time. Jimmy tensed a little, but he was finding it less painful each time, which enabled him to receive Thomas' cock more deeply.

Thomas moaned in delight; he hadn't realised how much he needed the intimacy of his younger lover. He thrust slowly in and out, allowing his juices to lubricate Jimmy whilst using his hand to tease Jimmy's throbbing cock.

Jimmy closed his eyes – the pleasure was overwhelming his body and thoughts. With every thrust Thomas made into him, he pushed his pelvis upwards to heighten the sensation, and Thomas felt his thighs twitch. Jimmy opened his eyes and looked questioningly up at Thomas, before gesturing that he wanted to switch places. He had remembered the way that Thomas had let himself be penetrated whilst on top, and wanted to try the position for himself.

Thomas pulled his cock out of Jimmy and lay down on the bed, masturbating furiously to keep the warm sensation on his erection. Jimmy had been warm and soft – his own hand was coarse, but it was better than nothing. Jimmy swung his leg over Thomas' body, and angled himself so his entrance was pushing on the head of Thomas' cock. With a little more force than he planned for, he slammed his body downwards so that Thomas was inside him again; both of them crying out in painful pleasure.

Jimmy took hold of his own cock and starting pumping it quickly; he could feel Thomas' cock on his sweet spot and his own was screaming for attention; dripping onto Thomas' torso below. He rocked backwards and forwards; tilting his pelvis this way and that; trying to enhance Thomas' pleasure as well as his own. He needn't have worried; Thomas was trying to stave off his orgasm, not wanting the moment to end; not wanting to face up to the situation that he knew they needed to discuss.

Jimmy had forgotten what was troubling them both, and with one last slam onto Thomas he spurted everywhere – over his hand, Thomas' chest, even managing to dirty Thomas' unshaven face. He stopped temporarily, allowing him time to recover, then he looked down at where Thomas was on the brink of climax, and started to gyrate his hips gently. Thomas' breathing quickened, and his hands began to grab at Jimmy's hips, urging them downwards. He moaned aloud, allowing himself to be taken into the bliss of orgasm, his eyes not leaving Jimmy's for the entirety of his climax.

Jimmy allowed Thomas a minute or two to gather his composure, and then slowly hoisted himself off of Thomas', now much softer, cock, grabbing a towel to wipe them both down. He climbed onto the bed and moulded himself around Thomas' still frame, neither of them daring to speak for fear that the moment would be lost.

* * *

A sharp rapping on the door woke them from their light slumber.

"Housekeeping!"

The door was locked so Thomas grabbed some clothes, hurriedly put them on and made for the door. Upon opening it he saw an old woman, not much younger than the Dowager, clutching a broom and clean sheets.

"Er, it's all right, we'll manage until tomorrow," he said, grinning uneasily. Jimmy was still groggy, and he didn't want the pub staff poking their noses into why only one bed looked slept in.

"Suit yourself." The woman walked away, allowing Thomas to close the door again. He looked over to where Jimmy was laying, his eyes closed; his naked chest displayed above the crisp white sheets of the bed. Thomas checked his watch – it was late afternoon; the two of them had slept for quite a time after their passionate love-making.

"Jimmy! Wake up!" Thomas said, shaking the young man's shoulders. "If you sleep now you won't sleep a wink tonight!"

"Who says I'm planning to sleep tonight?" Jimmy's eyes flickered open, and he smiled at his older lover cheekily.

Thomas sighed. He was torn between jumping back into bed with Jimmy, and having a sensible discussion about what they were going to do about the future. _The future, _he decided with his mature head.

"We need to talk about...what we're going to do," he said, sitting at the foot of Jimmy's bed.

Jimmy didn't argue; he knew Thomas was right. However, he also knew that he was hungry. "Shall we go downstairs for a bite to eat? I'm starved!"

"That's probably a good idea," agreed Thomas, passing Jimmy his clothes. "You'd better put these on though; don't want to frighten the customers!"

"Oi!" responded Jimmy, throwing his crumpled shirt over his head. "If anything's going to be scaring the customers, it's your hair. You look like you've got a spider on your 'ead!"

Thomas checked his reflection in the small, cracked mirror on the wall. Jimmy was right; Thomas needed some pomade – he'd run out and his hair was flopping into his face like when he was a little boy. Upon closer inspection, Thomas could see that his hair wasn't the only thing that was making him look like his younger self. He recognised the fear in his eyes; fear that he last saw when his father had found out he wasn't like_ other_ boys, and had given him a beating. He'd caught his reflection back then in the window, and it wasn't dissimilar to this one. Only this time, he had a sweet and loving blonde man standing next to him, nibbling his ear softly and he watched.

* * *

Thomas hadn't realised how hungry he was. He had polished off a steak and kidney pudding and potatoes, plus a generous sponge cake and custard, before he started to feel satisfied. Jimmy had chosen the same, not wanting to differ from his lover's choices, Thomas noted endearingly. They paid their bill and headed back upstairs, not wanting to talk in front of the other customers. If the police _were_ looking for them, it wouldn't take much to warrant their arrest.

Back in their room, Jimmy flopped onto his bed, rubbing his bloated stomach. "I'm stuffed!" he exclaimed, letting out a gush of air from his lungs. "A few more meals like that and we won't have to eat for a month!"

"That would be handy," said Thomas, loosening his own trousers and sitting on a chair next to the bed. "That meal cost a few bob. Prices round here have shot up – you forget how much things cost when you're in service, seeing as you get your meals for free."

"Mrs Patmore's cooking in't half bad for free – well, the stuff she does for upstairs was good. Shame we never got quite the same quality as they did," Jimmy said thoughtfully. "Back at Lady Anstruther's, the cook was decent. She always slipped in a bit of whatever the Lady herself was having into our dinners. Top woman, she was. She fell ill just before I left, though. Don't think she made it past fifty."

The two of them sat in silence for a minute, when Jimmy stood bolt upright, causing Thomas to jump in fright.

"Lady Anstruther! She gave me a reference when I came to Downton – I must still have it somewhere! I could just use that, couldn't I? It were a glowing reference too!"

Before Thomas could say anything, Jimmy was rifling through his possessions, desperate to find the bit of paper that could earn him another job. A small bubble of hope was forming in Thomas' chest; although he had been working at Downton for most of his adult life, Jimmy had not. If he could find the reference, there was a glimmer of hope that Jimmy might be able to get a job back in service. He tried to ignore the pang of sadness that he, himself was extremely unlikely to go back to being even a mere footman.

Jimmy turned round to face him, tears of anger in his eyes. "I can't find it! It's not here! I know I had it – I had two! One I gave to Carson, and one I kept. I never knew why her Ladyship gave me two – I questioned it at the time, but she's always insisted I might need it one day. It's almost as if she knew."

Thomas felt a wave of sympathy towards Jimmy as he accepted defeat in his task. They didn't have many possessions; there was no way it was in their room. Jimmy was crestfallen. He picked up all the letters and bits of paper he'd scanned and shoved them back in his case without any care. He put his head in his hands and sighed loudly. He almost didn't notice when Thomas stood up and started pacing around the room, muttering to himself. He'd lit a cigarette – something he hadn't done so much with Jimmy around, but he needed it to help him think.

"_hmm, well I suppose we could try...no, it's ridiculous! But she wouldn't...well, she might..."_

"Jimmy?" Thomas had stopped and raised his voice, blowing out a puff of smoke.

"Y-yes?" Jimmy removed his head from his hands and looked up at Thomas, wondering what he was about to ask.

"Do you have a passport?" Thomas had an idea forming in his head, but needed to know if he should stop it before it got any bigger.

"Yeah...I mean - I got one when I was at Lady Anstruther's. She insisted, just in case I changed my mind about going to France with her. I've kept it since. I don't know why though...it's not like I could afford a holiday!" Jimmy gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head.

Thomas looked at Jimmy, waiting for him to realise the idea Thomas was entertaining. Jimmy was staring at Thomas blankly, like he had just been asked to recite the works of Shakespeare backwards.

"Think about it – why don't we go to France, to Lady Anstruther's? You always said she 'begged' you to go with her, isn't that right? I've got a passport too – I keep meaning to visit my cousin in Bombay but I never had the time. When I thought I was going to be sacked I applied for a passport; luckily I didn't need it back then. But now...?"

The light was beginning to dawn on Jimmy, evident in the expression on his face. He stood up, facing Thomas, and looked at the dark-haired man with a sparkle in his eye. "Do you really think we could? Can we afford it? Tickets to Paris won't be cheap!"

"We've got Tom's money – that should just about cover the trains and ferry over the Channel. I know it's a risk, but it could really work, Jimmy. We could go first thing tomorrow, no point in wasting our money here. One thing though – what is her Ladyship like?" he asked, imagining the Dowager Countess at her most scathing. He stubbed out his cigarette on the brickwork, tossing it into the ashtray on the windowsill.

"She's a card; I'm being honest when I say that she begged me to go with her. She loved it when I played the piano. She'd sing and dance, and all sorts. She was a bit of a character. I think the term she liked to use for herself was..._bohelium?_!"

Thomas snorted. "Do you mean, _bohemian?_"

"That's the one...she said that Paris was calling to her, that she had to go and experience all the arts and literature it had to offer. It all sounded a bit airy fairy to me, not to mention all that French food, but I'd rather eat French food than no food at all!" Jimmy was beginning to get excited at the prospect – _an adventure for the two of them_!

"I'm assuming you have her address somewhere amongst your things?" Thomas waved his hand lazily over the pile of letters and documents Jimmy had searched a few minutes previously.

"Yes! I do – she wrote to me not long after I started at Downton, asking if was really sure about not going to France. Apparently French footmen aren't as pretty as...er...English ones." He decided not to say 'me', as even to Thomas, that would have sounded big-headed.

"Blimey! I think she was a bit sweet on you, sending you letters and the like. Should I be worried?!" Thomas joked.

"Don't be daft! She just knew a good footman when she saw one, that's all!" Jimmy had cheered up immensely. He fished out the letter from Lady Anstruther and read out the return address. "Le Chateau Chamarré, Rue Lamarck, 75018 Paris, France."

"Right, that's settled then. We'll get the train to London first thing tomorrow, then down to Dover for the ferry crossing. Once we've got to Calais, we'll get the train to Paris, and find this '_Chateau Chamarré'_." Thomas was pleased they had a plan – even if it was a risky one. He was worried to find Jimmy looking anxious, and misread his fears. "Don't worry, Jimmy. It'll be all right – I'm sure if she's as nice as you say, she'll hear you out at least. Even if we get there and all we return with is another reference for you, it's something that we don't have at the moment."

"No, it's not that...I'm quite excited about seeing Lady A actually..." Jimmy looked unsure of what to say next. "It's just...I've never been abroad before. I was too young to sign up during the war, and people like me don't get to go overseas, do they? I'm a bit scared of the crossing, if I'm honest."

Thomas looked at Jimmy kindly. He didn't know quite how lucky he was to have missed out on fighting during the Great War. Thomas glanced at his gloved hand which served as a reminder every day. "I'll be there to look after you, don't worry. I'll hold back your hair if you get seasick, I know you'd hate to have to set it again," he half-joked, gauging the reaction from his lover to see if he had gone too far.

Jimmy smiled – he knew Thomas would always be there to make him smile. He found his passport and put it with the letter, taking Thomas' passport from him to keep all the important items together. "Come on, let's try and get some sleep...we've got a busy day tomorrow!"

* * *

The train ride down to London had been smooth, and they'd watched the countryside disappear slowly as they made their way south to the capital. Jimmy had been excited on the train, but was beginning to feel nervous as they bought their train tickets from Victoria station in London. Thomas had a little knowledge of London whereas Jimmy felt like a foreigner – people were rushing about their daily business and everyone seemed to know where they were going.

"Ah yes, the trains are changing like the seasons these days! I thought we'd be getting on the London, Chatham and Dover Railway but it seems to have changed to Southern Railway. Well, I don't mind what it's called, as long as it gets us to Dover." Thomas was babbling like an excited trainspotter; Jimmy didn't have a clue what railway they were getting on, but he trusted Thomas' judgement.

The train from London to Dover was much quicker than the previous, it being a much shorter distance. Thomas worried whether they would be able to get onto a ferry before dusk, but luckily the porter selling tickets had been taken by Thomas' good looks. _Sometimes being this way isn't always a bad thing,_ thought Thomas, as the porter checked out his pert behind as they walked on. Jimmy looked down at the water as they boarded the ferry, and shrunk back a little. Thomas knew he couldn't take Jimmy's hand in such a public place, so whispered softly into his ear instead.

"It's all right, Jimmy, follow me. Don't worry, I'll look after you. The crossing doesn't take long – an hour at most. We'll be in France before you know it."

Jimmy reluctantly followed him on, closing his eyes until he could no longer see or hear the water, and it was safe to open them again. The boat felt wobbly under his feet, and he lurched to one side.

"Woah! Sit down, Jimmy," said Thomas, catching him as he fell. Looking around to see if anyone was looking, he rubbed Jimmy's arm soothingly as they sat down. Jimmy appreciated the gesture, and relaxed a little, trying not to think about the sickly sensation in his stomach.

Thomas' attempts at calming Jimmy were in vain, however; the crossing was not kind to them, and they watched the water level rise and fall through the port hole window, stomachs churning. Even Thomas was beginning to feel a bit queasy, and was pleased when they arrived in Calais and left the boat for dry land.

It was getting dark, and Thomas decided the best thing to do would be to find a small hotel to rest in overnight, before resuming their journey to Paris. He wanted them to be well-rested, in the event Lady Anstruther sent them away without hearing their pleas; there would be no use hanging around in a country with nothing to offer them.

They stopped over in the Hotel Du Beffroi, a small, family run hotel whose owner could speak good English, which was useful. Jimmy knew a little French - he'd studied it at school – and Thomas had picked some up from his time in France during the war, so they knew enough to get by, if needed be.

They turned in for the night, too exhausted for any physical activity. Cuddling up in the large bed they had found in their room (the hotel owner hadn't batted an eyelid when they said they only wanted one room), they closed their eyes and less than a minute later, were sleeping solidly, not waking until sunrise the next morning.

* * *

Surprisingly, Jimmy awoke first, and got up to look out of the window. The view from the hotel was of the sea, much calmer now the night had passed; an almost pond-like smoothness to the water. _Typical,_ Jimmy thought, washing his face in the small basin in the corner.

The splashing noises woke Thomas, who quietly watched Jimmy's naked torso as he washed. Throwing away the temptation to rush across the room and plant his lips on Jimmy's bare flesh, he got up and dressed, pushing Jimmy out the way so he could have a shave and do his hair. "Better make myself presentable for the lady!" said Thomas, lathering up his face.

"Oh, so you make yourself up for a lady, but not for me? That hardly seems fair!" Jimmy protested.

"Well, maybe if you start wearing a dress and calling yourself Jemima, I might shave for you too," laughed Thomas, running the smooth razor across his chin.

"What is this fascination with me and dresses?!" Jimmy asked, bewildered. "I would sooner run down the street in my birthday suit than wear a dress!"

"I'm sure that can be arranged!" chuckled Thomas, rinsing the foam from his face.

Jimmy rolled up a towel and launched it at Thomas' head. Thomas, rather than take offense, thanked him and dried his face. "Thanks, Jimmy! Such a helpful boy!"

Jimmy, realising he was never going to win against Thomas' quick wit, got himself dressed and dug out the letter with the address they would be searching for that day. He started to feel a little nervous at the prospect of coming all this way, only to be turned down or shunned when they arrived.

"I haven't even thought about what I'm going to say to her – about why I left Downton, I mean. She knew what that job meant to me. And she'll want to know who you are, too, and why we had to leave together. What if she sends us back? What if she guesses what we are?" Jimmy looked glum all of a sudden, like the thought had never occurred to him until now.

"I'm sure she won't even entertain the idea," said Thomas, not quite confidently.

"I hope you're right. I know she'll be pleased to see me, though," concluded Jimmy.

"Well, that's a start at least." Thomas had finished packing his belongings and picked up his case. Jimmy put on his jacket and grabbed his own case. Thomas squeezed Jimmy's hand and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving the room. He removed his lips and ran his hand down Jimmy's face, tilting his chin up towards his own, their eyes locking in a warm but nervous gaze.

"Now - are you ready to go to Paris?"

* * *

**A/N: I hope you like the turn of events! I haven't seen any other fics where they decide to find the elusive Lady Anstruther, so I'm hoping this is a first. I hope to have the next (hopefully last!) chapter up by the end of the week, so stay tuned! Thank you as always for your reviews, if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have got this fic done anywhere near as quickly. **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I'm afraid I lied - this isn't quite the last chapter, sorry! This is a long chapter for your Saturday night reading pleasure, and I will be writing an epilogue tomorrow to tie up the loose ends. **

**I have tried to make it as historically and geographically accurate as possible, but I apologise if there are any mistakes. On a similar note, I re-watched some of Series 2 last night, and I can't believe I'd forgotten, but Carson collapsed in one of the episodes, and Lord G even said "It's not a heart attack" so they were aware of such things in those days. **

**Thank you as always for your lovely reviews, they make me very happy :) I'm glad you all seem to like the idea of them in France - it kind of came to me one day and I don't think I've seen anyone else go that way with their story. **

**Anyway, I'll stop waffling and let you read the chapter - I hope you enjoy it!**

**(Warning for a little bit of slash!)**

* * *

Jimmy was both excited and nervous in anticipation of seeing his former employer again. He had really enjoyed working for Lady Anstruther; it was his first job, and he was lucky to have had such a great place to start his career. As the train left Calais, he started picking at his fingernails, wanting the time to hurry up but yet stand still simultaneously.

"Stop that - you'll make your fingers bleed." Thomas' words were authoritative, but his tone was caring. He looked over the table at Jimmy, staring into his lovely blue eyes and wishing he could dive right into them. He blushed when Jimmy looked back at him, as though his face had betrayed his thoughts. Jimmy hadn't noticed, however; he looked extremely anxious.

"Try not to worry, Jimmy. What's the worst that could happen?" Thomas' question was supposed to be rhetorical, but he found himself waiting for an answer from Jimmy, hoping that things could not get any worse.

"Well, she could refuse to see me. She could listen to my story and decide that she wants nothing to do with us. She could get us arrested!" Jimmy paused for breath but Thomas interjected.

"Actually, no, I don't think she could," said Thomas, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not illegal to do..._what we do_...over here. It hasn't been for years – since the French Revolution. I don't think it wise to walk down the street holding hands, however. It's just we wouldn't have to worry about the police turning up on our doorstep to throw us in jail."

"Really? How did I not know that? How did _you _know that?" Jimmy's face had brightened a little bit and he was curious to know more.

"History at school. I've known I was..._this way_...since I was about 13. And because of that, I listened when we did the French Revolution, and the history of the Penal Code, and they made mention of it. I don't know why they did. Maybe because it was seen as liberal. Everyone in my class was disgusted, of course...although some were only pretending to be."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jimmy, curiously.

Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Well, let's just say I wasn't the only one to discover my orientation at 13. Two of us discovered it together."

"What, you mean you, _did it_, at 13?!" Jimmy looked horrified.

"My God, no! But we may have kissed a little. It was weird, but I suppose no stranger than anyone's first kiss. I'd never kissed a girl, and never have done. _That _would be strange to me!"

"It is strange," said Jimmy, thoughtfully. "Kissing Ivy was peculiar. I kept expecting it to suddenly feel good, but it didn't. It's not like kissing you," he continued, bashfully. "That's quite nice."

"Only _quite _nice?" Thomas was mock indignant. "I'll have you know I'm a great kisser! Or that's what the boy in my class told me, anyway."

"All right, I admit, you are a great kisser. You have the most amazing lips – so soft and full, and they feel so wonderful on mine – "

"Ok, ok, that's enough of that," interrupted Thomas, embarrassed. "I think I preferred it when it was 'quite nice'!"

Jimmy smiled at Thomas' modesty. Thomas hadn't quite got used to being complimented so much yet, especially by a boy who he saw as perfection on Earth. It was lucky they had a private carriage to themselves; Thomas had been feeling positive when he bought the tickets, and didn't want to spend the journey cooped up with everyone else, not being able to talk freely.

Thomas sighed, and reached across to squeeze Jimmy's hand with his own. The journey was going to take a few hours, and once they arrived in Paris, they weren't really sure where to begin. They had borrowed a map from the hotel landlord, and had a vague idea roughly which direction they needed to be headed in once they arrived at the Gare du Nord – the station in at the centre of Paris itself.

Thomas closed his eyes and tried to catch forty winks – he hadn't really slept properly since leaving Downton – the worry and unfamiliar beds weren't helping. Being able to sleep cuddled up to his lover was a huge comfort, but an uneasy one – if anyone walked in on them sleeping, it would be as good as catching them in the act, so he could never truly relax. He blinked sleepily, and noticed that Jimmy had already dozed off; their hands still clasped together.

* * *

They arrived at the Gare du Nord just after lunch; they hadn't yet eaten, and Thomas felt his stomach rumbling loudly.

"Shall we stop for something to eat? I'm a little peckish, and I'm sure you are too," said Thomas, pulling his case from the train.

Jimmy didn't reply, so Thomas continued. "Oh yes, that's right, you don't fancy the idea of French food, do you? I'm sure we can just get some bread and cheese – you'd eat that, wouldn't you?"

Jimmy, now standing on the platform next to Thomas, finally spoke.

"It's not that...I'm sure I would find something I like, but I couldn't eat a thing, not until we go to see Lady Anstruther, at least. I can't sit there eating lunch, not knowing whether we're going to be able to stay the night or be turfed out onto the streets, having wasted our time and money."

Thomas knew that Jimmy had a point, and the sooner they found the house, the better. Perhaps if they were lucky, the lady might give them some food before 'turfing them out'.

They exited the station, and Jimmy caught sight of the Eiffel Tower in the distance. "So it is true – you can see the Eiffel Tower from anywhere in Paris!" He was a little excited now – this was his first time abroad, and Paris was such a change from the quiet Yorkshire villages.

"Well, we can see it from _this _part of Paris, but I wouldn't go making claims like that just yet. Paris is a big city!" Thomas chuckled, although he too was in awe of their surroundings. It was a world away from the trenches he had spent two years in during the Great War; he could hardly believe it was the same country.

They checked the map they had borrowed carefully – Rue Lamarck was about a mile away, so it shouldn't take them too long to walk it, even with their cases trailing behind them. Glancing nervously at each other, they set off towards the house of Lady Anstruther, gazing at the city as they passed through it, trying not to get their hopes up.

Part of their journey took them through a lovely area of gardens, which displayed a wonderful variety of flora and fauna, as well as a large lake. Thomas made a mental note to visit this park often, should they be fortunate enough to stay. He could just imagine lazing around, on his days off, reading books by Oscar Wilde or writing poetry underneath the branches of these trees, Jimmy by his side. They could bring a picnic here in the summer, and listen to the band playing on the bandstand. Jimmy would enjoy that - Thomas knew that he was musical, remembering how Jimmy played the piano so expertly back at Downton.

They carried on for another ten minutes or so, checking each road name as they found it, knowing that each one was a street closer to where they needed to be.

All of a sudden, Jimmy stopped dead and Thomas crashed into the back of him, his face buried in the map.

"This is it. This is the road, Thomas. We're here."

Jimmy was right. The sign quite clearly said 'Rue Lamarck', and it wasn't difficult to see which house belonged to Lady Anstruther. A large, symmetrical-looking house stood before them, guarded by iron gates. Surrounded by evergreen trees and rose bushes, it was separated from the other houses in the street not just by its greenery, but also by its size. It wasn't nearly as large as Downton was, but a respectable domain for a dowager, Thomas thought to himself.

Thomas patted Jimmy on the arm, and strode in front of him, confidently. He looked back round at Jimmy, who still hadn't moved.

"Well come on then! We won't get that reference for you by standing here gawping at the house. She'd be well within her rights to have you arrested for loitering!"

Jimmy found his feet and followed Thomas, shuffling his shoes as he walked up to the gates.

Thomas opened the gate, and held it open for Jimmy. _Always the gentleman,_ he thought to himself, smiling. He closed the gate behind him, and continued towards the front door, wondering whom they would encounter upon reaching it. _Will she have a butler?_ Thought Thomas, and more importantly, _If she doesn't, I wonder if she will have need for one?_

He rang the doorbell, and they waited patiently. No-one appeared at the door. Thomas rang it again, starting to panic at the thought that nobody was going to be in, and that they would have to leave empty-handed. He looked round at Jimmy, who was apparently thinking along the same lines. As if to answer their thoughts, the door swung open and a tall, thin man with a slight moustache peered at them through spectacles. The look of disdain he gave the two of them caused Thomas to dislike him immediately. _Only _I'm_ allowed to use that look,_ he thought.

"Puis-je vous aider, messieurs?" The man, who Thomas had (disappointingly) assumed held the title of butler, looked Thomas from head to toe, assuming him to be the one to answer, as he was the older and more confident-looking of the two.

"Oh! Er, parly voo Onglais?" asked Thomas, cringing at his attempt at a French accent. He had received top marks for French at school, but it had been over ten years, and he hadn't used it much since.

The butler elicited a strangled sound from his throat, and coughed.

"Of course I can speak Engleesh – her ladyship is from England. Who might you be, monsieur?"

"My name is Mr Barrow, and this is Mr Kent. We'd like to speak to Lady Anstruther, if possible." Thomas tried to make himself as tall as he could without standing on tiptoes, not wanting this Frenchman to look down on him any more than he already was.

"I'm afraid zat is not possible, monsieur Barrow," replied the butler, looking smug. "She is out at ze moment. She will not be returning for some time."

Thomas' heart sank. "Is she away? Or is she going to be back today?"

The butler thought before answering. "She will be back later." He was giving nothing away.

"So...would we be allowed to come in and wait for her?" It was Jimmy who spoke this time, addressing the butler directly. "She knows me – I used to work for her, you see, back in England."

The butler looked horrified at having being spoken to so informally by this young Englishman before him. He turned to face Jimmy, puffing out his chest. Thomas was reminded of Carson was just a second, and felt a pang of regret when he realised he hadn't given much thought about whether Carson was all right or not. If, by some miracle, they managed to stay in Paris, he would write to Tom straight away. He needed to know if Carson had survived the vision of the two of them rolling around in the nude.

"No, you may _not_ come in and wait! Lady Anstruther does not employ me to invite unknown guests into her 'ouse," he said, sneering at them both.

"But we're not 'unknown' – Jimmy here used to work for Lady Anstruther, didn't you Jimmy?" said Thomas, gesturing towards the young man.

"Be zat as it may – even if you are telling the truth about – " he paused whilst he looked Jimmy up and down, " – '_Jimmy'_, I still do not know who YOU are and why you want to invite yourself into my ladyship's house."

Thomas detested the man in front of him, and could feel a rage boiling inside of him. However, he didn't want to lose his temper and ruin their only chance of ever speaking to Lady Anstruther.

"We want to talk to her, see. She wrote a reference for Jimmy here, and the silly beggar, he's only gone and lost it!" He tried to keep his tone light to avoid saying what he really though – that this man should shove off and let them come in and wait.

"I do not see how zat is any concern of mine, or Lady Anstruther's. If zis boy is foolish enough to lose something he regards as valuable, zen it is his own fault." The butler looked to walk away and close the door, but Thomas stuck his foot in the way.

"Please, sir, we really need to see her ladyship. It's really important. I know she would speak to me, I'm sure of it," Jimmy pleaded with the butler.

"Well zen tell me zis – why didn't you tell her you were coming over to see her, hmm? She told me she was having no visitors today, and she is not due to have any visitors from England for a month. Surely if she and you are so, _well acquainted_, you would have let her know you were coming."

"We only decided to visit yesterday, so we didn't have time to write," Thomas answered for Jimmy, hoping it would be enough.

"And you have such, _occupations_, zat allow you to travel to France as you please? Or do you have no work, and zat is why you have come 'ere, to beg Her Ladyship for a job?" The butler looked at them smugly; he had hit the nail on the head and he knew it.

Thomas did not have an answer for this question. If he told the butler they had no jobs, he would wonder why. _Because we were caught having sex in one of the grand bedrooms and gave the previous butler a heart attack, _was probably not a good answer, he thought to himself, and almost smiled at how ridiculous it sounded. He almost wanted to say it, just to gauge the haughty butler's reaction. _He'd probably have a heart attack too, _thought Thomas, _which wouldn't be such a bad thing at this moment in time!_

"I see. Au revoir, messieurs." The butler promptly shut the door in their faces, before either of the men had a chance to say anything. Thomas was furious; they had come all this way for nothing. He pounded his fists on the door, wincing as the agony rippled through his wounded hand.

Jimmy was biting his lip, trying not to get upset. He had honestly believed that if Lady Anstruther had seen him, she would have at least written him a new reference. He looked around, to see if there was any chance she was on her way back. No-one was in sight – at least no-one who remotely looked like her.

"So what do we do now?" Jimmy pondered, more to himself than anything. He looked over at Thomas, who was nursing his hand. "You should be careful with that hand – I don't think banging it on people's front doors is going to help."

Thomas met his gaze, tears of anger forming in his eyes. "I don't care about my hand. I care about you. I really wanted this to work, Jimmy, I wanted to get you your reference. You deserve it!" He lashed out at the door again in sheer frustration, with his foot this time instead of his hands.

Kicking it once more, he stumbled when the door opened and the butler appeared again.

"What are you doing?!" He bellowed, red in the face. "Stop kicking zis door zis instant!"

"Not until you let us come in!" Jimmy said, trying to enter the threshold.

The butler put out his hand and shoved Jimmy in the chest, causing him to fall backwards onto the doorstep.

Before the red mist had a chance to descend on him, Thomas swung for the obnoxious butler with his fist, sending him hurtling to the ground. Jimmy gasped; he had not expected Thomas to react so quickly. The butler lay on the floor, still conscious but holding his bleeding nose where Thomas had struck it.

"What did you do that for? Now he'll never let us in!" Jimmy got to his feet and brushed down his clothes. "And he'll probably call the police!"

"We'd better leave," said Thomas, starting to panic as the butler attempted to get to his feet. "We've done all we can here, it's no use. Come on."

Thomas turned around and hurried down the steps, Jimmy closely behind. They picked up their cases from where they had left them by the gate, and exited the vicinity of the house.

Walking quickly down the Rue Lamarck, Jimmy turned round to look at the grand house and his heart sank. This was not how he was expecting the trip to go at all. With his head still turned, he was jolted back to life when he collided into something, or more accurately, someone.

It was a lady; tall, slim, with long greying hair which grew straight down to her waist. Her forehead was adorned with a row of silver daisies which carried on all the way round her head. Her dress was flecked with reds and purples, and she had a vast collection of bangles stretching from her wrist to her elbow.

Jimmy looked up at her in surprise, and then a slow grin formed across his face in recognition.

"Lady Anstruther!"

The lady was agape; covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes began to dance as she recognised the boy in front of her; the former footman she had been so very fond of.

"Jimmy! It _is _you! I can't believe my eyes! What on Earth are you doing here in Paris, of all places?" She glanced over at Thomas and narrowed her eyes. "And who is this fine young gentleman you have brought with you?"

Thomas, never one to miss an opportunity to charm an aristocrat, held out his hand. "Thomas Barrow, your Ladyship. Pleased to meet you! Jimmy has told me a lot about you!"

"Oh dear, that phrase always sends shivers down my spine. You must both come inside for some tea. You can't get a decent cup of tea in Paris, _je regrette_. I have mine shipped over from England specially." Lady Anstruther looked over at Jimmy, who had been rendered speechless. "Jimmy, dear – are you quite all right?"

Jimmy looked worried. "It's great to see you again, m'lady. Except...we had a bit of a run-in with your butler...he didn't take much of a liking to us when we asked to see you."

"Oh dear, has Monsieur Armand been vetting my guests again? I do so wish he wouldn't do that," she said, shaking her head. "I've told him to relax and stop being so formal all the time – it is the twenties now, after all! I knew it was a mistake to employ a French butler. They all seem so...rigid..."

"Believe me, m'lady, English butlers aren't much better," said Jimmy, thinking of Carson. He looked over at Thomas and corrected himself. "Well, not all English butlers. Thomas here is an excellent under-butler!"

"I'm sure he is, Jimmy," replied Lady Anstruther, smiling at Thomas, who was a little taken aback by how informally Jimmy spoke to his former lady, or rather how she spoke to him with such familiarity. _Well he did say she insisted on calling him Jimmy, and that she begged him to go with her. I can't quite see the Dowager back at Downton familiarising herself with the servants in a similar vein!_

"So what did you do to poor Monsieur Armand?" mocked Lady Anstruther, holding out each arm to allow Thomas to take one, and Jimmy the other. They both escorted her to the gate of the house, then stopped, anxiously.

Thomas looked nervously at the floor, whilst Jimmy stared straight ahead.

"It can't be that bad, can it?"

"I'm afraid it is, m'lady," said Thomas, remorsefully. "He may have shoved Jimmy when he tried to enter the house, and his nose may have connected with my fist shortly afterwards."

Thomas could not have been more surprised by Lady Anstruther's response. She threw back her head and laughed loudly, her jewellery tinkling as it rattled on her shaking body. Once she had stopped laughing, she addressed Thomas directly.

"I only wish I'd had the gumption to do that myself! Do not worry, young Thomas, I'd had quite enough of him anyway. In fact – that's why I've been out today, to see a friend about employing a new butler. Monsieur Armand is far too prim and proper for my taste. If I'd wanted to live like a Victorian, I would have stayed in England. Perhaps now he will leave, and save me the tiresome task of sacking him."

Thomas was relieved, and was pleased to see Jimmy smiling again. _She's certainly a card all right_, thought Thomas, his mood improving by the second.

The three of them walked up the steps and into the house. The front door had been left ajar by the injured butler, and Lady Anstruther instructed the housekeeper to go and find him.

"And bring us some tea, please Madame Delacour. These young men look like they have a long story to tell me, and we will need something to satisfy our thirst."

She waved them into the drawing room, and they waited for her to sit down before taking a chair for their own.

Jimmy didn't quite know how to start. He cleared his throat several times, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Thomas stepped in to help him, and got straight to the point.

"Lady Anstruther. We have travelled here to see you because Jimmy has the need for a reference. He remembered you giving him two, but he has lost the spare he had. Would you be so kind as to write him another?" Thomas realised how many questions this was going to elicit, but he didn't want to go into any detail if he didn't have to.

Lady Anstruther looked at Jimmy, puzzled. "I thought you were working at Downton Abbey now? What happened that you should need another reference?"

Jimmy couldn't quite meet his former lady's eye as he mumbled, mournfully, "I got sacked, with no reference. I have only ever worked there, and for you, and if you could give me a reference I would be most grateful, m'lady."

"Oh, Jimmy. You know you're going to need to tell me more than that. How did you manage to get yourself sacked? You were such a good footman for me. I can't believe that you did anything that warranted losing your job. Do you want me to contact Lord Grantham myself? I'm sure I could sort things out for you."

A single tear fell from Jimmy's eye and rolled down his cheek. "There's no point, he won't listen. What we did, he won't forgive."

Lady Anstruther picked up on Jimmy's wording. "_We?_" She looked across at Thomas, whose cheeks had reddened slightly. Her brain began to put two and two together. "So, Thomas, have you been sacked also? What exactly happened at Downton?"

"We...were caught stealing wine from the cellars, m'lady," rescued Thomas, hoping that she would believe him. He desperately wanted to spare Jimmy from embarrassment, or judgement.

Lady Anstruther wasn't convinced. "Stealing wine? I admit, that wouldn't go down well with the English but it's not a sackable offence, and definitely not worthy of a sacking without a reference. What _really _happened, Jimmy? I can't help you unless you tell me the truth."

Jimmy was crying silently now. He was torn between being honest with his former lady, and risk being turned away, or hiding the truth and going home empty-handed. Thomas couldn't bear to witness his misery, and took Jimmy's hand in his. "It'll be all right, Jimmy. We'll work something out, I promise."

Lady Anstruther gasped as she saw the two men holding hands. "Jimmy – is Thomas your lover? Is that why you were sacked?"

Jimmy looked up at her and nodded slowly, watching her face to gauge her reaction.

The dowager sat back in her chair and closed her eyes, groaning.

"If you want us to leave, we will, but we're not ashamed of who we are, Lady Anstruther," said Thomas, defiantly. "I love Jimmy, and he loves me. We know what people think of us, but we were born this way, we didn't choose it. We tried to keep our relationship a secret but we were caught a couple of nights ago, and thrown out with the threat of prison over our heads. I would do _anything _for Jimmy here, so we agreed to come and find you. Jimmy had me believe that you would be less judgemental, so we thought we'd try. I see we were mistaken. Come on, Jimmy."

He stood up and pulled Jimmy with him, when Lady Anstruther opened her eyes and held up her to hand to stop him. "Wait! You come out with all that romantic sentiment and you expect me to show you the door? Are you mad?"

Thomas looked at her, confused. "What? You mean, you don't mind about what we are?"

"Mind?! I love it darling! Oh, to see two souls in love, it was obvious from the moment I saw you on the street!" She clasped her hands together, smiling at them both.

"Was it?" questioned Thomas, not understanding. "Well, why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, that's just the drama queen in me – I wanted to build the suspense! Of course, I always had my suspicions about Jimmy here..."

Jimmy's head shot up to face her. "Did you? How?! I've only just discovered it myself!"

"Oh, Jimmy dear..." Lady Anstruther tilted her head towards him. "I just seem to have a good sense for these things. I saw the way you used to gawk at my grandson when he came for dinner, and you never showed any real interest in the maids. Why else do you think I was so desperate to bring you over to France?"

Jimmy pretended to look hurt. "I thought it was because you found me attractive, m'lady! Not just because you thought I wouldn't knock up the maids!"

Lady Anstruther laughed. "I can't deny that I like to surround myself with good-looking men." She glanced over at Thomas, who smiled at the notion that she found him handsome also. "Paris is so much more, _attuned,_ to those of us who are different. I knew you'd fit in well here – you could put that musical talent of yours to good use in some of the clubs in Montmartre. I never expected you to stay a footman forever."

Jimmy smiled. He couldn't quite believe just how accepting his former lady was. He waited for the housekeeper to finish pouring the tea, and cleared his throat.

"So...will you give me that reference, then?" He had a good feeling the answer would be yes.

"No, I won't give you a reference, Jimmy..." Lady Anstruther shook her head.

"What?! But you said – " Thomas protested, looking shocked.

"Hold your horses, Mr Barrow," she said, giving him a stare that told him it wouldn't be wise to keep talking. "I won't give Jimmy a reference...because I want to give him a job. His old job, really. But things are a little different over here. I have a housekeeper, a cook, a maid, and a butler, well, I _did_ have..." She trailed off, looking a little bemused. "...but I don't have a vast array of servants. Things have changed a little, and Paris allows me to come and go as I please, not sit in my house being waited on by others. I don't really require a footman, but I am willing to take you on, as a footman and...an _entertainer_. I miss having you play the piano for me – you were so good at it..."

Jimmy gaped in surprise. He hadn't exactly been expecting a job offer, although he'd be lying to himself if the thought hadn't crossed his mind during the journey. It was better than he could have hoped for. He still had one niggling thought.

"What about Thomas? Can he stay with me? I won't stay here unless he can stay here with me."

Thomas welled up at the loyalty shown by his younger lover. He had been thinking along the same lines – it was great that Jimmy had been offered a job, but what was he going to do?

"Did Jimmy say you were a butler, Thomas?" Lady Anstruther squinted at him, sizing him up.

"Well, yes, I was the under-butler at Downton. I can be a footman, or a valet, or anything you need!" Thomas was not normally reduced to begging, but the days of being proud were past him, at least for the time being. Jimmy had showed him what was really important, and he was desperate to stay here with him if he could.

"Well, Thomas, today is your lucky day. Some scoundrel has injured my butler – " she winked at him " – and to be fair, he was one move away from receiving his notice anyway. What do you say to giving it a go, eh?"

Thomas was pleased to say the least, but it was Jimmy who lunged out of his chair to throw his arms around Lady Anstruther.

"Thank you so much, Lady A! We'll be your best workers, I promise! Thank you!" Jimmy was completely overcome. Their luck had changed dramatically in the last couple of days, beyond belief. He extracted himself from the lady, and sat back down, grabbing Thomas' hand and squeezing it tightly.

Lady Anstruther noticed the embrace. "I'm surprised you two lovebirds didn't get found out sooner – who did you say discovered you? It wasn't old Lady Grantham, was it?" She tried to suppress a giggle at the thought of the Dowager discovering them up to no good.

"No, it was the butler, actually. We think we might have given him a heart attack in the process, too." Jimmy looked a little guilty. Carson might have been a bit of an old grump but he didn't deserve to die.

"Do you mean to say that in the space of a week you've incapacitated _two _butlers?! Ever thought of setting yourself up as butler assassins?!" Lady Anstruther looked bewildered, but not annoyed, Thomas thought thankfully.

"And you don't mind, about not having a reference for me? You could probably contact Mrs Hughes, the housekeeper at Downton. She was always sympathetic to my..._condition_."

"Don't you ever see it as a condition! It's who you are, and it makes you much more intriguing. These days half the men in Paris are your sort! You should take a trip down to Pigalle one evening, or try Le Boeuf sur Le Toit which only opened last year. Believe me – I've seen more than one man in a dress around these parts!"

To this last statement, Thomas laughed out loud. He looked at Jimmy. "I told you you'd look good in a frock – maybe now's your chance, ay?"

Jimmy stuck his bottom lip out, but he knew Thomas was joking. _Well, I hope he is!_ He thought. _I'm not putting on a dress for anyone!_

* * *

After reeling off a list of fashionable nightclubs, Lady Anstruther had instructed the housekeeper to take the men to their room; they had been pleased to see they were going to be sharing. Separate beds, mind. Thomas kept pinching himself; he couldn't quite believe how much his luck had changed. They'd been told to spend the next couple of days settling in, ready to start next week.

Jimmy unpacked his case and looked over at Thomas, who was sitting on his new bed, crying.

"What's the matter, Thomas?" He asked, joining him on the bed and linking his hand with his lovers'.

"I just can't believe it – it's like a Hollywood picture or summat. We've gone from being unemployed, unemployable, foul men, to being accepted and both having a job in the same household. Lady Anstruther certainly is a character – who would have thought she'd be so accepting about us, and our relationship?" Thomas was crying tears of happiness.

"I told you she was bohelium!" Jimmy grinned at his deliberate mistake. Thomas looked at him with such love and devotion.

"I love you so much Jimmy Kent!"

"I love you too."

Their mouths locked together, and Jimmy could taste the saltiness of Thomas' tears on his lips. Jimmy pushed Thomas onto his back on the bed, and they clawed at each other's clothes. Thomas froze suddenly.

"Is everything all right?" asked Jimmy with concern in his voice.

Thomas relaxed. "Yes. I was going to say, 'we should lock the door,' but I don't think we quite need to here, do you? Lady A knows what we are – and likes us all the more for it."

Jimmy nodded in agreement. He pressed his lips to Thomas' forehead, and trailed them down to his lips. Prising Thomas' mouth open with his tongue, he caressed Thomas' tongue with his own, whilst unbuttoning Thomas' shirt. He put his hand on Thomas' bare chest, raking his fingers through the chest hair, causing Thomas to shiver with delight.

Thomas ran his hands down Jimmy's body, still clothed, and groped at Jimmy's crotch where a bulge was forming. He used both his hands to undo Jimmy's trousers, and slid his hand inside, grasping Jimmy's erection firmly. He could feel his own trousers tightening, and tried to undress himself with his bad hand.

"Here, let me do that," said Jimmy, as Thomas struggled with his trousers. He undid Thomas' trousers and slid them down over his knees and feet, so Thomas was left in just his open shirt and underpants. Jimmy pushed Thomas onto his back again, and slithered his tongue down Thomas' chest to his bellybutton. Grabbing the waistband of Thomas' underpants with his teeth, he pulled them down, revealing Thomas' impressive erection. Jimmy took Thomas into his mouth, and the older man gasped with pleasure. He grabbed tufts of Jimmy's blonde hair and thrust into Jimmy's mouth, but he wanted to be one with Jimmy. He grabbed Jimmy's shoulders and pulled him back to his level, undoing Jimmy's shirt and trousers as quickly as he could.

Both naked, save for Thomas' shirt around his shoulders, the two men ground against each other, trying to press as much of their flesh together as they possibly could. Jimmy was on top, and he used each of his hands to pin Thomas' arms to the bed.

Jimmy smiled mischievously. "Did you pack the ties?"

"Of course I did – didn't think I'd miss out on the chance of being your sex slave again, did you?"

Jimmy got off the bed and rifled through Thomas' case. He found the ties, wrapped up in the same brown paper packaging as the day they were bought, and made no bones about fastening each one around Thomas' hands and the bed railings.

He knotted them tightly. "Don't want you to get away, do we?" Thomas was not complaining – he was already bucking his hips with lust.

Jimmy kneeled on the bed between Thomas' legs, and pushed his knees upwards to allow him to view Thomas in his glory. He whimpered in anticipation at the sight before him, and sucked his fingers noisily. Removing his fingers from his mouth, he thrust them into Thomas, enjoying the reaction from his dark-haired lover. He spread his fingers, opening Thomas up for him, and removed them just as quickly, not wanting to wait any longer.

Watching Thomas pull against his restraints, he guided his cock into him, allowing the head to push in slowly to allow Thomas to accommodate him comfortably. He moaned with pleasure; he still hadn't got used to the feeling of the tight muscle squeezing on his cock, then once Thomas had relaxed, the hot firmness deep inside. It was such a delight – one he knew he'd never get bored of.

Thomas' erection strained painfully, but Jimmy had no intention of giving in to him just yet. He wanted Thomas begging to be touched, and he thrust into him deeply, panting with each push. He looked upon his lover, and was almost overcome with passion. He felt a deep sense of happiness, one he had never felt before in his life. He closed his eyes and rotated his hips, sending simultaneous spasms through both men.

"Jimmy. Please." Jimmy opened his eyes, and saw Thomas pleading with him to be touched. His cock was quivering against his stomach, leaking in anticipation. Jimmy wanted to tease Thomas, and shook his head. Thomas pushed his hips upwards in protest, trying to force his cock into Jimmy's hand that was hovering inches above it.

Jimmy couldn't stop himself from grabbing Thomas' cock to relieve him; it looked so wanting. He pumped his lover furiously, and fucked him with every inch of his being. Thomas came first; his cock exploding with force all over himself as he shuddered to a climax. Jimmy watched, knowing his own was imminent. He grabbed hold of Thomas' waist and buried his cock deep inside, relishing the smoothness of Thomas' buttocks against his hips. He only made a minimal movement; not wanting to withdraw any of his length from Thomas, he ground in circular movements and felt a rush of blood to his groin, sending him over the edge. Digging his fingers into Thomas, he came inside him, paying no attention to the volume of his groaning.

Jimmy withdrew and collapsed onto Thomas, ignoring the mess they had created.

"I'm not dreaming am I?" Jimmy asked, nuzzling into Thomas' chest.

"No, you're not dreaming. But I don't suppose you could untie me so I could cuddle you, do you?" Thomas replied, grinning.

Jimmy grinned in return. He untied Thomas and the two of them lay there, content.

Things were going to be all right, after all.

* * *

**_In the end all you can hope for,  
Is the love you felt to equal the pain you've gone through._**

**_Bones – Editors._**

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it - as I said there will be an epilogue as I am aware of the total lack of Tom this chapter! But it was long enough and I wanted to write it from T & J's point of view, so both they and the reader doesn't know what happened at Downton after they left. Also, I hope my French dialog doesn't offend anyone - I do know quite a few French people and tried to imagine how they would pronounce the words. Come back tomorrow for the (actual) last chapter! :)**


	22. Epilogue

**A/N: This is it folks! A short epilogue to let you know what's going on with Downton in Thomas & Jimmy's absence. I hope I manage to answer all your questions. To the reviewer who asked about what would happen during WW2 - well that's almost 20 years away so it won't be in my story, but I'd imagine they'd move back to England. It gives them plenty of years of fun in Paris first, though! **

**Anyway, enough from me - I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

_Epilogue_

Dear Thomas,

Thank you for your letter – I was so relieved to hear from you after these past couple of months! I am incredibly happy that you have managed to find work with Lady Anstruther in Paris – what a great idea of yours!

Firstly, in answer to your question about Mr Carson – he is alive and well, I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear. He DID have a heart attack, but it was a mild one, and he has all but fully recovered. The most difficult thing was trying to keep him in bed, resting – he couldn't bear the thought that Alfred had to manage serving dinner on his own without him, and the two of you. Another fact you'll be glad to hear, is that he admitted to Doctor Clarkson that he had been having pains in his arm and chest all day, so it has been decided that the two of you did NOT give him a heart attack at all. But I like to believe you did – it makes the situation that much more amusing!

Lady Anstruther sounds great – you know me, I like a good rebel! It's wonderful that she's given you both a job – although it sounds like Jimmy might not be a footman much longer if he keeps wowing the crowds at the nightclubs on his nights off! Thank you for your kind invitation to come and visit – I think I will have to take you up on that! Paris sounds grand – although I'm not sure about some of those clubs you talked about. I hope you were joking about Jimmy dressing up as a woman!

As for me – well you'll be pleased to hear that I am still chasing thrills in my spare time. However, this time I am playing it a little safer, depending on your point of view. I have joined York Motor Club! Now that the estate is running according to dear Matthew's plans, it has allowed me to take a back seat in the running of the farms, and a front seat in running some of the most beautiful motor cars you have ever seen. I envy you living in France – it's a terrific place for motor racing! Maybe I could come over for the next Grand Prix and stay with Lady Anstruther, should she be accommodating. I could bring Lady Edith with me – she has been accompanying me to the race course, and we have become good friends.

Everyone knows why the two of you left, of course. Lady Mary filled me in with the details of that night, and I had to pretend to be none the wiser. She, of course, was very shocked but she has enough of her own to worry about. No-one speaks of you two, and it saddens me, but that's the way the upper classes are, I suppose. If everyone ignores a situation, it will eventually go away. I hope you don't mind, but I have spoken to Edith about the two of you. She has her own forbidden romance to hide – she and Mr Gregson have been meeting up secretly (you know he's married?), so she can sympathise with your situation. But it sounds like there isn't much to sympathise with any more – I expect you do not have to worry about these things in Paris.

I hope the two of you are well, and I expect we will see each other soon. I am desperate to see for myself – Thomas Barrow embracing the bohemian lifestyle! I've heard Paris is a place of truth, beauty, freedom and love – all the things I believe in. Little Sybbie is growing up so quickly – she is so much like her mother. You would hardly recognise her now! You remember my friend James Collier, who came to see me just before you left? He is coming to visit with his boy Paddy next month. We decided to stay friends, and nothing more. I know now that I am not ready for a relationship – but I hope to be soon. Lady Rose is determined to set me up with one of her friends, but they are too carefree and fanciful for me. Or maybe they just remind me too much of my dear Sybil.

I miss you, Thomas. Apart from Edith, I have few friends here. I don't belong neither upstairs, nor downstairs. Jimmy is lucky to have such a friend in you, and you are lucky to have him. Cherish him, won't you?

Write back as soon as you can. I need to hear more about your evenings in the nightclubs of Paris – it makes me laugh to think of you cavorting with the bohemians.

Your dear friend,

Tom Branson

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**I apologise for Tom's blatant plagiarism of Moulin Rouge! (I can just imagine Thomas as the penniless sitar player...and Jimmy as Satine! Haha, that would make a good crossover!) I have enjoyed writing this story so much, and I have loved each and every one of your reviews, they have inspired me and kept me writing so faithfully as I have :) **

**I will hopefully be writing another fic soon. I work full time and I am studying so I don't have a lot of free time, but I managed this one so I should be able to write some more. They are likely to be Thomas-centric, as he is my favourite character :)**

**Thank you all for reading! :)**


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